


Seasons of Love

by lorryspence



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Autumn, Character Death, Crushes, Dating, First Love, Fluff, Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage, Pining, Romance, Spring, Summer, Unrequited Love, Weddings, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 74,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25068106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorryspence/pseuds/lorryspence
Summary: This story follows the lives of Tsuki, Kuroo, Hinata, Atsumu, Suga, Oikawa, Akaashi and Bokuto as they navigate phases in their lives. From tying loose ends to reviving a loveless marriage, they show their own story of the different faces of love they encounter inside and outside of the court.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka, Yachi Hitoka/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

The school year is coming to an end and so is Kei Tsukishima’s peaceful mornings as he suspects a secret being kept from him by the people he trusts the most, his brother and his childhood friend. As he comes to grips with another falling out of his relationships, Yamaguchi pulls Tsuki into another love triangle with all sorts of consequences. Love, loss and lies. Spring still hasn’t ended for Tsuki.

**The Taste of Spring**

Then, there was light. A small ray escaping from the gap between my curtains gently coaxed me into wakefulness. Blonde curled tips bathed in sunlight before me. I turned my head towards the ceiling. _‘What a bother.’_ The morning was cold and the warmth of the blankets kept me in place. Thump, thump, thump. ‘He’s coming.’

“Ugh.”

With hands on his waist, he annoyingly assumes the stance of a disgruntled mother; “Kei! It’s time to wake up!” I’m jolted out of bed by the volume of his voice.

“Can you keep it down? You might as well wake up the whole neighborhood while you’re at it.”

I reach for my glasses sitting on the side table. When I turn, Akiteru’s face is only inches from mine.

“Eh?”

A smug smile was plastered on his beaming face. _‘This is a pain.’_

“Hurry up before you keep someone waiting.” He snapped up from his position and thumped away signalling me to get up.

I absorbed what little energy I could get from the light filtering from the outside. It was going to be a noisy morning.

I paced downstairs; with each step, the noise in the kitchen became louder and louder. I peeked from around a corner. There was Akiteru busying himself heating breakfast and a figure crowned by unkempt jet black hair sitting cockishly by the dinner table.

He always comes for Akiteru’s cooking.

“Good morning, nii-san.” I glance at the guy at the table. “Good morning, Kuroo.” A mischievous smile split his cool, disinterested expression.

“Good morning, Tsuki!” After sipping on some coffee, he looks to Akiteru. “Your brother’s been telling me again how a big pain it is waking you up. I still think it’s better than what I let my old man go through to get me out of bed. He should count himself lucky!” Kuroo lets out a braying laugh.

_‘Ugh. Such a loud laugh.’_

Kuroo Tetsuro. He was tall, slender, slightly tanned and muscled fellow. He sat comfortably at the dinner table after having spent so many years eating there. He perched one arm across the head of the adjacent chair giving a fuller vision of his wide chest. One of his long legs slid to the other side of the chair, slightly moving it time-to-time with his fidgeting. His voice was a variety in itself. It could come out obnoxiously loud like a kamikaze attack and there were times it was like a soft whisper in the wind. Kuroo’s smile was unapologetic. It was like a wave that rippled across his face forcing his eyes to crinkle. Uninhibited, unafraid and unashamed. He kept his eyes on Akiteru again.

He was also in love with my brother.

His slanted raven eyes suddenly darted at me. I nervously turned my gaze away as I approached the table. _‘Shit! Was I looking too long?’_

We finished breakfast, and left for school. Kuroo and I shared almost the same height and people would think our pacing would get along whenever we walked together, but really I always chose to lag a little bit behind letting my step only get halfway through the length of my stride. It gave me a comfortable distance. It was far enough to let me naturally watch him from afar and close enough not to make Kuroo fuss about it.

Kuroo and I had grown up together. His father thought it better for him to be taken into his grandfather’s custody after their divorce, and he moved to Miyagi with him. When we met he’d been feeble, small where he was curled in on himself.

“Now this looks like a good morning.” Kuroo glanced up at the pink buds that have yet to bloom along the neighborhood. The one-way street we walked through everyday was bordered by a concrete wall from the residential side and a small freshwater river lined with cherry blossom trees on the other side. There were no petals on sight. Not on the walls, not on the light gray asphalt and not on the translucent river currents. Not a bud has bloomed. He combed his big hands into his bed head, bringing the mess down for just a moment. _‘He should keep it down.’_

“Hmm…”

I flinched. “What is it?” He had another snarky face- a downturned mug with devious eyes. “It’s just that you’re doing it again.” Rubbing his hand against his chin thoughtfully. “You’re staring.”

Smack.

We walk leaving the sakura-lined lane and a mark on someone’s face.

In school, the cold morning dissipated into a warm spring day. The embarrassment from having Kuroo catch me looking at him is still hot on my face. _‘Ugh, I feel the blush rousing around my cheeks. I wonder if I’m turning red again. I better wash my face just to cool off.’_

“Tsuki!”

“Oi, not now Yamaguchi. I need to head to the bathroom to wash off.”

“Let me come with you! I need to talk to you about something.”

I turn to the window to see a bunch of other guys sweating it out in the middle of the day. _‘Ugh, who would be so willing to drench themselves in sweat to just play?’_ Among those excitable guys was Kuroo. Taking off the coat of his school uniform, he sped into the field, purposely crashing into the other boys and playing it off jokingly.

“He is so sociable, isn’t he? He reminds me so much of Akiteru-san.”

“Hmmm…” I wondered that too, but I often think his sociability was more of a product of his background. A child would, at some point, push themselves to go after friendships and relationships that resemble love, most especially if their parents failed to offer it to him that first.

“Come to think of it, I guess that would be normal since he would spend so much time with him back then.” Maybe Kuroo found that in Akiteru.

I turned my head and strolled through the corridors. _‘How did they get so close?’_ I looked one more time at Kuroo and how his hair glistened in the light.

‘It was ‘cause of volleyball.’

When we were younger, Kuroo and I would normally play video games, toy dinosaurs and volleyball. When it was the two of us, we’d get along just fine having rallies in the backyard until Akiteru came by.

“Ooh! You guys are playing volleyball! Kei, why don’t you bring Tetsuro-chan to my game this Saturday? Maybe it’ll get your blood pumping to really play it than bumping the ball back and forth.”

So we went. The lights, the sweat and the screams made the gym such a lively place. There he was; Akiteru was flying all over the court. He was running back and forth for receives, blocks and spikes. Without a doubt, he was in the zone, in spite of the team lagging behind against the opponent. I remembered cheering for Akiteru and jumping up and down whenever he scored a point.

However, the real turning point was when his team was at match point. Akiteru and the Wild Dogs were hanging on, racing to seal the match before their opponent could catch up. Their opponents were much bigger, faster and taller than they were. In spite of that, they kept up with a rally, not giving in and not backing down. The Wild Dogs setter sent the ball too high, even higher than the blockers could jump. However, a swoosh came behind the court. Akiteru leapt as high as he could, hovering just above the blockers, and spiked the ball without hesitation, giving the team the win they deserved.

Cheers and applause coupled with the awe in the air. The strength and passion of the team to reassert themselves in spite of a heart-breaking gap was felt. I couldn’t help but beam at Akiteru with a victory sign then and there making sure he felt the pride I had for him. Then I turned to my right, expecting Kuroo to be just as amazed. Instead, Kuroo looked transfixed, his hands gripping at the rail pipes were practically trembling and his mouth was agape. His brows furrowed with a disquieted apprehension as he stared at Akiteru like he a god… or maybe a first love. “Amazing.” He said.

We were finally in the washroom. Arms crossed against each other, I gave Yamaguchi an expectant look.

“Oi, spit it out Yamaguchi. You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

“It’s… Yachi.” His voice trembled. He looked down unto his crumpled fists. “There’s been a rumor that Yachi and Shimizu are dating and-“

I scowled. “Seriously Yamaguchi, is that any of your concern?”

“Yes, it is!”

I was taken aback by his outburst. This was a first for Yamaguchi. He was soemone who was attentive to how he would act or respond. The best way to put it was that he was a peacemaker, making sure his actions were gentle, kind and timid not to invite any ire or bad feelings from anyone. The fact that he answered so boldly and so loudly made it clear to me that this was gripping at him.

“I like Yachi and-“

“And what, Yamaguchi? What will you do if it is true?” I asked to humor him. I regret it. I saw my best friend’s eyes well with tears. “Then, I’ll give up my feelings for her.”

_‘Is it really that easy to give up on something you’ve been holding on to for so long?’_

I took a good look at his state and tightly pressed my lips before saying, “So, what’s your plan?”

“I overheard them talking at the hall about going out for lunch at the district mall. We should just hang around to see if… you know… if-“

“If they’re romantic and exclusive you mean?” The things I do for friendship.

* * *

Here we are at the district mall stalking Shimizu and Yachi’s date.

Yamaguchi is really getting into staking out this date. He was dressed in black, with matching sunglasses to boot. He gripped tightly on plastic binoculars that were ready to use on cue. _‘If this isn’t suspicious activity worth reporting, I don’t know what is.’_

They started moving towards the café. Shimizu was dressed in a light blue denim jacket over a plain white blouse and black skinny jeans as bottoms. Yachi was clad in a peach flowing dress and a nude sling bag across her body. _‘They look good together.’_

I glanced down at Yamaguchi, crouched like some sort of tiger ready to pounce. _‘I need to catch myself thinking those things before I end up having my tongue slip in front of Yamaguchi.’_

They took a seat. Yamaguchi and I followed inside, sneaking into seats across the room. As usual, Yamaguchi was exaggerating and hiding his face with the café menu.

He leaned closer to whisper, “Hey Tsuki, order something.”

“What? Are you gonna pay for it?”

“Shhh!”

He grabs my head and yanks it down while hiding behind the menu board. Yamaguchi is trembling. I sigh. “This is pathetic. Fine, fine.” I wave for the waiter to take our order and ease up Yamaguchi.

I turn towards the girls’ direction. I couldn’t see Yachi’s face but judging from her laughter, she must be enjoying herself. The bounce of her blonde hair followed her nervous little motions. She must not totally feel comfortable yet; maybe they’ve only started to go out recently. I cupped my chin in thought.

I took a glance at Shimizu and my eyes widened. Shimizu looked relaxed with Yachi; her often sharp blue eyes looked soft and kind towards her. She didn’t have her usual poker face on. Instead, she had a subtle smile that slightly widened time-to-time, according to the animation of Yachi’s motions. She was happy. She was giggling.

Our milkshakes arrived. I took a sip of my strawberry milkshake before crossing my arms in front of the problem in front of me- Yamaguchi. He was painstakingly focused on the two women before him. _‘Whether Shimizu and Yachi are going out or not, Yamaguchi will still be in a pinch considering everyone else’s feelings.’_

It would be terribly easier to be a bad guy at the same time it’s terribly difficult to be in the right anyhow.

“Hey Yamaguchi, what are you going to do if they’re not dating?”

I took another sip of my shake.

“I plan to confess to Yachi.”

“Oh. What about if they are dating?”

“I still plan to confess to Yachi.”

I nearly choked. “What, are you crazy? Aren’t you being too stubborn with that? I thought you’d give up your feelings for her!?”

“There’s a difference between not pursuing your feelings and not having expressed them at all.”

Yamaguchi finally unglued his eyes from the two girls and took a good look at the new problem before him—Me.

“The reason I wanted to know whether Shimizu and Yachan were dating was to be respectful of the boundaries and manage my expectations, but at the end of the day, these are _my_ feelings. They may not be accepted by Yachi, but they deserve to be heard and to find closure in whatever way they can.”

I blinked a couple of times before I could process this. Once in a while, Yamaguchi had a way of showing his maturity and strong resolve. _‘I guess this means it’ll either only get better or worse from here on out._

“Hold on… Then why are we stalking them? Why don’t you just ask Yachi straight up?”

* * *

I heaved a sigh. We were still following the girls around the shopping mall. For all the maturity and strength it took Yamaguchi to say the wise words while ago, he is annoyingly stuck to the notion of seeing for himself what kind of item they really are. I turned away from this horrible mess and spotted an orange-haired pipsqueak and black-crowned tyrant at an ice cream parlor. Hinata and Kageyama.

They seemed to be in an argument. Hinata stood up from his seat and yelled something to Kageyama and stormed off out of the ice cream parlor in tears.

“What the hell was that?” I raised a brow.

“Oh. Did Kageyama and Hinata have another one of their fights?” Oh thank the Lord, Yamaguchi hasn’t totally lost consciousness of reality. This looks like a good opportunity to rub some salt into Kageyama’s wound. I chuckled. _‘Who would have thought Yamaguchi’s stake out would present such a rarity.’_ I reveled in the moment.

“OI, Kageyama. Your boyfriend just went up and left. Aren’t you going after him?” I asked mockingly

“Tch. What does it matter to you? He isn’t my boyfriend anymore.”

“Huh?” Yamaguchi instinctively sat beside Kageyama.

It’s not surprising though that Kageyama and Hinata broke up again. They were our team’s power couple- a very volatile power couple. Their power never came from their sense of stability; it came from their ability to deliver results. While that does make such a nice hot mess, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the most consistent demonstration of love.

“You must have done something again.” I took my seat across him, smirking at his loss.

I thought he would be tight-lipped about it, but he spoke up again; “Maybe it’s for good this time that we’ve broken up.”

“Huh? How could you say that Kageyama? Weren’t you so happy when Hinata confessed his feelings for you?”

“Yeah… but I realized feeling something and doing it are two different things. I did feel overjoyed when Hinata told me how he felt, how he couldn’t stop thinking about me and how, aside from volleyball, I was the only thing that made him look forward to the day. My love for him was fulfilled with his confession, but I was wrong.” He paused.

“Love fulfilled doesn’t happen in the moment you mutually share feelings. That’s just the beginning. After a while of fumbling around love, you realize maybe you’re not ready to love this person after all. Loving and caring for someone also means wanting their happiness. What if I’m not cut out to make Hinata happy? Maybe it’s right he cuts me out.”

“You’ll only find that out with Hinata together.” And just like that Shimizu popped out of nowhere.

“Sh-Shimizu!”

“Keep it down Yamaguchi!”

* * *

Shimizu was the center of everyone’s attention. Next to me was Yachi. Anticipation was in the air as everyone awaited Shimizu’s take on the matter. Shimizu crossed her arms and stared thoughtfully at Kageyama.

“At this moment, you gave what you could to Hinata. Maybe it may not be good enough, or maybe it is. The fact of the matter is that you will never know until you talk to Hinata himself about what can be done.”

“But Shimizu-san, we broke up. Doesn’t that say enough?”

“Breaking up to get space and breaking up forever are two different things. Knowing how the both of you are still high schoolers, I highly doubt Hinata has made that differentiation. Besides, questioning whether you’re good enough for someone isn’t a fair thing to decide on your own. It isn’t fair to Hinata and it isn’t fair to you.” She looked over the confused Kageyama and sighed.

“Every relationship has its ups and downs. You cannot expect yourself to perform at 100% in a relationship. After all, you have to take care of yourself as well. Imagine it this way, it’s not like we always receive and score every ball we get, now do we? We drop the ball sometimes too. We crash into each other, fight and argue too.

“It’s good that you’re doubting yourself, that you’re concerned and that you have worries because it shows you care. Whether that care is enough, enough to continue this relationship, this should be discussed between you and Hinata.”

Kageyama stood. “What if it isn’t good enough?”

Shimizu broke eye contact with Kageyama to look into the distance. “Then, let someone else care for him the way he wants to be cared for.”

* * *

We stepped out of the ice cream parlor as Kageyama sped away in a mad dash to find Hinata. _‘What a sad sight. That’s the back of a man that’s desperately in love. He’s going to get broken one day.’_

Shimizu came to my side. She looked in the same direction, towards the black-shirted back of Kageyama disappearing in the distance.

“It’s sad. You’d think after having established a relationship, things would go smoothly.” I said.

“It’s a never-ending journey of perseverance and self-discovery.”

“A never-ending gamble, you mean.”

“You can think so too, but isn’t everything a gamble? Volleyball, studies and relationships are gambles we take. We invest our time, effort, and hearts to things we believe in. There is the risk of having your faith crushed into the ground or having your world shattered. However, is it better to live a life without having tried to believe in someone or something greater than yourself?”

I take a good look at her. She seems like a veteran on these matters. _‘Who am I talking to?’_

“Shame, pain and heartbreak has value too. It means you challenged something, you challenged yourself to go after someone or something.” I was surprised. Yamaguchi snuck in from behind with those words.

_‘He’s been having a lot of wise moments today._ ’ I nodded to appease him

“Oi, where’s Yachi?”

“Right here!” The blonde girl harped from Yamaguchi’s back. “I was just about to ask Yamaguchi why you guys were here.”

“About that-“I had no idea what to say. I looked at Yamaguchi. _‘Shit.’_

Yamaguchi was sweating buckets. He’s going to crack!

“I’m sorry!”

“Ahahaha!” Shimizu giggled and looked kindly on us. “So you overheard that Yachi and I were going on a date and wanted to know if we were in a relationship.”

“Y-yes. I’m sorry Shimizu-san. I’m sorry Ya-chan. I ruined your date.”

“Oh don’t worry too much Yamaguchi! You didn’t ruin our hangout.” Yachi patted.

It was only for a second, but I saw it. I saw how Shimizu’s eyes widened ever so slightly. In a mere second, she recovered just as quickly and joined in to comfort Yamaguchi.

“There’s no need to apologize. We just wanted to go out and spend time together seeing that the seniors and I will be leaving soon. I wanted to make sure Yachi knew that I believe in her and I would support her as the new manager of Karasuno.”

Yachi’s eyes sparkled and her smile widened. “Tsk, tsk Yamaguchi! You shouldn’t believe all the rumors you hear. That’s so petty of you!”

“Rumors or not, why did it concern you?” Shimizu asked flatly, cutting the friendly air.

_‘Oi, what’s this passive aggression, she’s got Yamaguchi cornered. He’d better just keep it cool and-’_ I turned my head and found a trembling Yamaguchi about to bare his soul. _‘Are you kidding me!?’_

“Yachan.” He bowed his head.

_‘Is this going to be a confession!?’_ I looked frantically back and forth between Shimizu and Yamaguchi. Two solitary figures diametrically opposed in battle.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out on a date with me next Saturday.” He kept his head down.

“Yamaguchi.” He lifted his head slowly to meet Yachi’s.

“Yamaguchi…” Yachi bent down. “I think I’d like that.” She smiled kindly.

* * *

Both Yamaguchi and Yachi were asleep on the train seats leaning against each other, while Shimizu and I stood holding unto the hanging handle grips. It may or may not be a confession. I guess Yamaguchi found that way the best way to express how he felt… subtly.

However, it was bothering me. This thing in the air. It was floating. Shimizu’s feelings were floating like deadly daggers in the air randomly piercing things at will. 

“That must have not been easy to watch.” I needed to close the door on her feelings before I get killed by this horrid atmosphere. She acknowledged I knew.

“It’s never easy to see the person you love wanting to go out with someone else.”

“So why didn’t you tell her how you felt?”

“Because, like a while ago, she never really felt the same about me.”

“What’s this?” I looked down on her irritatingly. “You just said that loving is a risk and here you are backing down from it? What hypocritical nonsense is this?”

She turned her sharp blue eyes to me. “Whether my feelings for Yachi would change her mind or not wasn’t as much of a concern for me compared to being able to be a person that can stay by her side. Even choosing not to fulfill your love, not to pursue it and not to touch is a gamble in a way.”

“In what way?” I raised my brow.

“You are choosing to maintain the normal, the usual, and the status quo in order to keep having what happiness you have now. You deprive yourself of the very possibility of having more while saving yourself from the loss of having anything less. For some people, it might be the safest route, but, for me…it’s the most painful route of all.”

She gripped the handle tighter and guarded her heart with a fist. Her voice trembled. “You are waiting for the possibility that your person would one day realize your feelings or their feelings for you. You wait because you care too much to lose the person before you. Greed, passion and sweetness are nothing compared to the contentment of being able to stay by the side of the person you love. It is a painful route but I’m willing to wait for Yachi. I’ll wait for her and I’ll also wait in case someone else could love me more than I imagine she could.”

“So it’s a waiting game to see who wins. You or your resolve.”

‘Love seems like a sick masochistic joke.’ When words falter, maybe actions do better. I reached for her free hand and gave it a tight squeeze before letting it go. _‘I’m sorry.’_

I really wouldn’t know how to love.

* * *

The morning light came through again. _‘Darn curtains. I need to close it tighter.’_ The sun must be rising earlier ‘cause Akiteru isn’t up yet to wake me from sleeping. I sit up and heave a sigh. _‘Might as well save him the trouble.’_

I grab by glasses, ready myself and amble towards the door. I emerge slowly from the staircase to all of a sudden hear the voices of Akiteru and Kuroo butting heads.

“Shut up!” I take a step back. Kuroo sounded scary back there. I leaned against the wall dividing the kitchen from the hall eavesdropping on the fight.

It was Kuroo again, “You don’t know how I feel. I’ve just been looking, watching and loving from afar. These are things I choose to do because I don’t want to sully what we have.”

Akiteru bit back, “You really think this is how we should go about it. If you really care so much for the love you have, why don’t you tell Kei already?”

My heart sank. There’s a difference in assuming something, and having it validated as a fact in the real world. I wonder if there’s a word to describe the pain in your chest, like a dull puncture draining your heart of blood. My legs were giving way. I silently ran back up to my room. I shut the door, threw my glasses unto my table and plummeted head first into my bed sheets. _‘It hurts.’_ I pressed my face further into my pillow until I couldn’t breathe.

I pull back. _‘Why does it hurt? Why… would… I… be… crying?’_

Pools swell up in my eyes. Warm streaks mar my face with salt and my mouth contorts in all kinds of ways. I frown and I wail and I frown. While doing so, heat in my ears rise, spreading the rouge from my cheeks and eyes.

_‘I can’t. I can’t let them see me like this.’_ I frantically wipe my snot and tears against my sleeves. I make a dash to the bathroom and I get a good look at my face.

Red. My nose has swollen up with drips of snot sliding out. My eyes had a glassy shine to them and turned a puffy pink around the edges. My mouth was trembling, swollen and wet at the corners.

It’s a cold morning but my body was so warm, so terribly and painfully hot and warm.

I turn on the faucet and splash myself with water drenching myself and my clothes in desperation. _‘Anything to make the redness go away, the embarrassment, the shame. Anything!’_

Akiteru enters my room.

Fortunately, I was snug between the sheets, looking towards the ceiling. I manage a small croak, “Nii-san, I feel sick.”

“Oh?” Kuroo emerges from the door. His Uniform messed up and his hair much more disheveled than usual. _‘A morning make-out session.’_

Another sharp sting shot into my heart. I close my eyes and give up. _‘I really am pathetic.’_

“Kei-chan, you look terrible.” Akiteru kneels by my bedside and lays his cold hand on my forehead. “Oh my, you’re terribly warm.” He takes another good look at my face and decides not to let me go to school.

“Sorry Tetsuro-chan, it seems like you were waiting for nothing.”

_‘Nothing.’_

“You better go off. Seems like Kei won’t be able to go out for a while.”

Kuroo waves his arms in defense, “Nah, it’s no problem. I’m always happy to stop by regardless. I’ll come by tonight and tomorrow to check on Tsuki.”

_‘Of course you will.’_ I turn my head to the wall. _‘I just want both of you out of my room.’_

The murmurs fade and the click of the door gives me salvation.

I slowly sit up to take a good look at the stillness in my room. I check my window to see if Kuroo left. As I search for him outside, he manages to spot me through the small gap of my window curtain.

“Tsuki! See you later!” He waves and hollers.

I wave back. _‘Why do I feel this way Kuroo?’_

I get up from my bed and kneel by my TV cabinet. I reach out for an old album. Flipping through the pages, I found the photo of Kuroo, Akiteru and I.

Kuroo’s hair hadn’t changed one bit. It still stood and folded in all the same angles. His face was so… determined. He was so quiet and scrawny, but he often had his brows bunched up together and a small scowl on his face. You’d have to laugh when you first met him.

However, I already liked him. Maybe it was ‘cause he was new or that I was his first friend, but he was such a keen boy. Whatever I said, liked or did, he would give a genuine interest to it. In some way, he imprinted on me. It was endearing.

As time passed, our friendship grew and he was willing to be louder and rowdier with me. I remember bumping heads and falling over each other while playing volleyball. I was unconscious at the time, but Kuroo mustered all the strength he had in that tiny body of his to try to carry me indoors to Akiteru. I laugh.

Even back then, I was a pain to be with and yet, he never left my side. He would choose walking with me everyday than with anyone else even back then in elementary school. We’d hold hands prancing under the sakura lane. His scrawny nimble fingers intertwined with my pale plump ones was the most natural thing.

Who would have thought this small kid would fill in all the right places and grow up so tall and strong. I remembered him combing his hands through his hair. I wonder what it would be like for him to comb them through mine. Imagine the warmth that came with them. The husk of his voice reverberating through my ears. Imagine the coolness of his breath.

_‘Huh!? No, no, no!’_ I rapidly shook my head side-to-side in shame. My eyes darted to the other corner of the photo. _‘He’s… Akiteru’s.’_

My brother and I shared genes that were easy on the eyes, but even when he was younger, my brother could steal glances. He had a delicate and angular face, soft on the cheeks and sharp on the edges. His hair was a tad darker than mine, but it fell naturally. His eyes were always so alive and his smile was so certain. It was a smile that knew that it would always end up getting what it wanted.

Then, I turned my attention to the boy down the middle. I was just as pale as I was back then. My cheeks were a bit rounder and my eyes were more excited. You can tell by the way I smiled, I was different then.

_‘What happened?’_

It was when Akiteru entered high school. Kuroo and I kept beaming to him about joining the super powerhouse of Karasuno.

“Onii-san, you’ll be wearing the Karasuno colors! Yay! We’ll get to see you play in the big leagues! Isn’t this great Kuroo!?”

“Yeah! I can’t wait to see Akiteru-san beat down bigger guys!”

“You bet he will!” I was so gullible back then. I really believed that Akiteru was the best, that he was the brightest and the strongest, but I was wrong. There was a reason he never invited us or answered back every time we asked.

I wonder if Kuroo found that weird too. During that period, I spent less time with Akiteru and more time with Kuroo. I still think I was such a bother. Kuroo was an only child without a mother or father. To say he was being raised by his grandfather would be theoretically correct, but practically wrong. Kuroo was the one taking care of him. He would wake up early every morning to cook breakfast, ready their lunches and pack their bags. He would spend weekends doing groceries, errands and check-ups with his grandfather. Between his family and school, he didn’t really have a lot of time.

I was always worried when I invited him out. _‘Was I being a bother?’_ If I was, he never made me feel that way.

When Akiteru was being distant, I would call Kuroo over to play video games and read comics with. He’d tell me all the stories he heard from his grandfather. I’d tell him all the stories I’ve heard from Akiteru. We’d rant. I’d fume about how Akiteru forgot to do the dishes or do his turn at the laundry. He’d worry about how old his grandfather was getting and how he wanted to grow up fast, get married and have babies to give his grandfather some reprise.

One day, Kuroo felt so safe with me that he mentioned his mother. Kuroo said he looks a lot more like his mother.

“I was more like her before.” He said

“I was quiet, reserved and restrained. I wanted to be a good boy for her. I made sure that I always spoke respectfully, never made a fuss or gotten into trouble.”

I was appalled. “Where is this good boy you’re talking about?” I joked.

“Then, she filed for a divorce and I didn’t see the point of being a good boy anymore.”

Have you ever experienced looking up to someone and having that strong image taken down in an instant? Kuroo must have been like any impressionable kid figuring out the world day-by-day. What constantly anchored him from being swept away by all kinds of things must have been his mother.

It reminded me of how I was back then, _‘What would onii-chan do? What would onii-chan say? What would onii-chan thing?’_ When you look up to someone, you don’t just believe in them as a person. No. You believe in what they stand for, what they do and what they represent.

In literature, you call it the turning point, the pivotal moment when a character’s principles, value and beliefs are tested or, rather in my case, shattered. Passionate hot-blooded people irritate me now. A snapshot of Hinata came to my head. “Ugh.”

I looked back at the photo of us. _‘I wonder if Kuroo also changed that day we saw Akiteru. After all, he looked up to Akiteru as much as I did.’_ Images of them possibly touching, hugging and kissing conjured in my head. “Ugh, why did I have to remember that? He’ll love Akiteru no matter what. Knowing Kuroo, that’s for sure.”

Defeated at the thought, I cupped my face while whispering, “After all, he put up with me.”

* * *

“Here ‘ya go Tsuki!” Yamaguchi dropped off some handouts and notes on my table.

“Thanks Yamaguchi!” I get up from bed.

“Onii-san shouldn’t have made you come up.”

“No, no, no. I was the one who insisted. I wanted to make sure you were alright, after all I did drag you around the mall during the weekend.” His head was down and he was anxiously playing with his fingers. ‘He totally feels guilty and thinks he’s the reason I got sick.’ I sigh.

I reach out and pat Yamaguchi’s head to comfort him. “Now, now, this isn’t your fault in any way. I’ve just been feeling under the weather that’s all.”

Yamaguchi beamed a smile. I ruffled his hair harder to give him an extra push to get out of my room.

“Aw aw aw! Ugh! It hurts Tsuki!”

There was a sound of a crash.

The door exploded wide open and Kuroo was leaning against its frame, posture hunched and tense, arms crossed.

“Hahahaha! See you Tsuki! I think I should go.”

Yamaguchi slipped nervously from my hold and ran for the door. I could see Kuroo giving him a stare. _‘I swear that guy must have been a carnivore in his last life.’_

“You know I still get jealous that Yamaguchi is your best friend when I’ve known you longer.”

“Longer doesn’t mean better.” I bit back.

His brows furrowed.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Of course, I know why. ‘Akiteru.’

“I came to drop by some honey lemon syrup for you to mix in your tea. They say it helps quicken recoveries.”

_‘Lies.’_

He gently places the plastic on top of my coffee table.

“You could have just passed it to Akiteru.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you.”

“Oh… like Yamaguchi. Well, you’ve seen me and I’m doing fine so-“

“Tch. No, not like Yamaguchi!” He hissed. His body tensed up, his hands crumpled into fists. His brows met and his mouth scrunched in disdain. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like being comparable to Yamaguchi.

_‘What a weirdo.’_

“Calm down. Why are you so worked up?” I was about to sit on my bed when he grabbed me by the wrist. It was tight, fixed and strong enough to pull me closer to his seething state. He was doing it again. I tried to stiffen up, hold my ground, but he only pulled harder. He was doing it again. _‘No stop!’_ His face was only inches from mine. The air was warm and humid. Any breathing space we had was not shared, melted and mixed to brush against each other’s skin. “Kuroo…” My lips trembled.

His raven black eyes captured my reaction. Before you know it, I realized we were forehead to forehead, probably centimeters away from each other.

“Do all our years together mean nothing to you?” He whispered.

_‘You asshole! I’m the one that’s heartbroken!’_ With all the strength that I can muster, I push him away rendering the centimeters into feet.

“That’s what I’d like to say to you! What kind of relationship do we have if we aren’t honest with each other?”

_‘Just tell me already.’_

“What am I to you when you can’t tell me straight up?”

_‘Say it.’_

“… When you can’t tell me how you really feel?”

_‘You love him.’_

In the heat of the moment, I screamed everything into the air and bowed my head to the ground in defeat. _‘Shit, I lost it.’_ I lifted my gaze and what little pride I had.

My eyes widened.

Kuroo looked shocked. His eyes shrunk at the scene and his mouth was ajar with no words. It took a second for him to realize he must have looked ridiculous and dashed out in anger, fists balled up and all.

“K-Kuroo…” I called. Of course he didn’t hear me.

* * *

_‘Ugh. What a drag.’_ The sunlight woke me up from sleep. I rubbed my eyes as I tried to get grips with reality. I stare straight into the ceiling. ‘Did Kuroo and I really have a fight?’

I slightly push myself up by the elbows to look at the door. _‘Am I going to see him again?’_ The thought of having to face him in front of Akiteru made my stomach turn. “I’d rather barf last night’s dinner.”

I decided to make a quick change and slip out of the house. ‘Better to avoid any trouble really.’ With hands in my pocket, I stroll leisurely through the street. ‘Anyway… I bet they’re talking about it.’ Then, I remembered Kuroo’s disheveled face the other day. ‘Or making out.’

“Huh?” I looked up the same street Kuroo and I walk through everyday. The cherry blossoms haven’t bloomed yet. _‘That’s odd. They looked like they were set to blossom by now.’_ Nope. Not even a single petal has been caught by the water.

I meet Yamaguchi at the school gate. He starts chatting about the newest games he found online, and the hardest topics from yesterday’s class. _‘I’d hate to admit it, but thank god I have Yamaguchi. He helps fill my day when I’d rather keep my mouth shut.’_

“Tsuki! Yamaguchi pounds my desk with both hands flat on the surface. “Aren’t you excited to play one last game with the seniors!? Let’s hurry to the gym!”

_‘Ah. Their last game with us.’_ I’ve been so busy with the thought of Kuroo and Akiteru dating behind my back, Yamaguchi’s rumor-driven stake out on Shimizu and Yachi and my fight with Kuroo to realize… ‘Yeah, it is their last game with us.’

Clad in my sports shorts and t-shirt, I enter the gym with Yamaguchi. We were in the middle of spring and its abundant breezes, but the air in the gym was thick and still. I eyed everyone as they went on their own business.

“Good afternoon!” Yamaguchi greeted Daichi and Suga- the high school sweethearts. Even if they were leaving, everyone knew they were leaving as a package deal. You couldn’t take one without the other. _‘They’ll most probably be the first to get married.’_ It must be nice to be so assured of love. That would be the kind of love everyone would like, easy, simple and secure. They held hands walking back to the court after greeting back.

I turned to look for Yamaguchi and found him bounding towards Yachi. _‘There she was.’_ After that weekend, I had a certain respect for Shimizu. Where Daichi and Suga were on the same page, Shimizu and Yamaguchi were two different sides of a coin.

Shimizu chose to love from afar. To care, to pine, to long and to yearn from a distance hoping that love would be returned, even for a little bit. It may as well be one of the greatest acts of love. It’s ironic that having love for someone is also not having it at all to yourself.

Yamaguchi was another side. Recently, he’s been impressing me with how much he’s grown. Of course, I would never admit it. His love was so direct, so honest, so earnest and unwavering. However, it wasn’t without trials. Unlike Shimizu’s, this love isn’t kept to himself. This love is bared for all to see, but most especially to the person of its affection- Yachi. The quest of this love is revealing itself, almost stupidly, to the person before even knowing or having certainty that the person would accept it in its nakedness.

Rejection. There is always that little prick. For Shimizu’s side, rejection is like a disease that spreads throughout the body. Slow, gentle and silent. It grips you tenderly so that even you don’t notice it creeping at all your sides. Before you know it, you have grown so accustomed to your condition that pain is your everyday. That is your new normal. A horrifying limbo of both knowing and not knowing if your love ever loved you back… even for a second.

For Yamaguchi, rejection would be like the story of a man robbed of his riches, honor and clothes. Left for nothing on the streets by the very person he entrusted his heart to. The pain of a love made known is the shame of being seen as the fool who made the foolish mistake that they could be loved by that person, the shame of believing they could be loved like that, the shame that they deserved that love at all. It rips you into two and takes your heart and pummels it to the ground. It’s such a sharp pain that the most logical thing to develop from it is trauma.

‘How could you ever love again?’

I felt a tap on the shoulder. It was Hinata. “Hey Tsuki! Let’s get ready for the game. We gotta give the seniors a game they can’t forget.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“Uh?”

Yamaguchi bounced in between the two of us letting me escape the shrimp’s questions.

“Hi-Hinata, don’t mind Tsuki so much. He’s been preoccupied all day. I bet he’s just sad about the seniors leaving.” Yamaguchi explained frantically.

“Ooooh, well, let’s see if that’ll have anything to do with his game.”

I position myself in the usual rotation. “Are you okay?” I turn to the voice beside me.

_‘It’s Kageyama.’_ I eye him and the shrimpy back and forth.

“How are you Kageyama?”

“Oi!” He nudges my arm. “Don’t answer my question with another question.”

“I’m just thinking. Something you wouldn’t know. You?” Thump. My head was solidly smacked by a volleyball in Kageyama’s hand. He quickly grabbed the ball back before I could use it against him.

“Better.” He replied. He looked at Hinata. “We officially broke up. We talked about it and mutually decided to stay friends.”

_‘Ah. And there’s that.’_ Even if your love is accepted and returned, you can’t be certain it’ll last forever.

“That’s sad to hear.”

“Oi kiddos!” We both look up.

“Are you going to keep your seniors waiting?” Leering from the other side of the net and looking at me with hungry intent was Kuroo.

* * *

‘It’s payback time!’

“Oi Tsuki, with a face like that you could kill.”

I grinded my teeth against Kuroo’s provocation.

“Just make sure your eyes aren’t too glued to me.” He ran back and jumped for a spike. I jumped with him.

_‘Shit!’_

He snickered in the air. “I told you to watch the timing of your blocks. You shouldn’t keep getting distracted by me.” He winked and spiked the ball hard into the ground behind me.

There was a fire in Kuroo that seemed to determine to fulfill a mission. I imagined he would be more put off after our fight and after the fact that I left him waiting at the house. _‘I guess I didn’t really mean anything to him.’_ Trash.

“I would have thought you’d be tired by now, senior.”

“Oi! I’m just two years older than you.”

I turned my back on him, readying the next strategy to take down the third years.

It was a bit harder to attack without the reliable receives of Daichi, the spikes of Asahi, the steady sets of Suga and, of course, Kuroo’s on-point blocks. However, we aren’t outmatched. Tanaka was up to serve. He slammed the ball to the other side, but, as expected, Daichi does a clean receive. Suga sets for Asahi to only have his spike saved by me. Hinata flashes forward into the sky and Kageyama sets. Just like that, the crazy quick gives us the first point of the match. Broken or not, they were the power couple.

This match wasn’t just a match to win. It was a match to say something. I need to make sure I’m heard even against the noise of those two idiots.

_‘Listen to me, Kuroo.’_

There were so many rallies in between sets that you’d think we’d gotten so used to each other’s spikes and serves. There were, of course, the fast-break mid-air battles, the flashy spikes and, my favorite, absolute block outs. The seniors can’t touch this.

“Looks like someone is showing off.” Kuroo.

“Showing off or just making a good play. Call it what you want, but it really depends on your perspective. Saying it’s a show off means only one thing.” I point right at Kuroo’s face, “You’re intimidated by me senpai!”

“Ya-Yamaguchi...sh-shouldn’t we pull Tsuki back!?” Hinata tugs at Yamaguchi’s shirt repeatedly.

“Uh… I don’t know Hinata, but he looks really into this, better than what we expected a while ago.”

Of course, we had our own set of shut down spikes and dropped balls. The match was pretty tight with the seniors at match point. Now, the ball was on our side.

Yamaguchi did a clean receive. I ran back securing some run-up space and started dashing towards the net. Kageyama was ready for the set. In the same instant that Hinata, Tanaka and I leapt forward, the ball found itself before me. Higher than my usual. _‘Tch. That Kageyama.’_

I reached and spiked hard, smashing all my anger into the core of the ball until it bounced cleanly off the court unto the viewing deck in a snap.

I worked my spiking hand to open and close just to check if I didn’t injure myself. I loudly commented, “I’m starting to worry about you there Kuroo. What happened to your block?”

I lifted my gaze to meet him with a victorious smile. I made myself heard.

We won that match and, with that, the seniors trust that we would carry Karasuno into the finals.

Everyone was packing up. Shimizu went ahead and left the keys to Daichi. Yamaguchi offered to walk Yachi home. Kageyama and Hinata left the gym, separately. Tanaka and Noya were busy ushering the other lowerclassmen to move out. They wanted to give the seniors some space and time in the gym. A set of footsteps stopped in front of me as I was fixing my bag. “You don’t need to tell me to leave.”

“I won’t. I want to leave together.”

I looked up. It was Kuroo.

* * *

It was late into the evening, the sky was dark indigo blue and the spring wind was still very alive. Streetlights planted far apart left patches of light on the dim neighborhood, but really the moon was enough. I looked up. Full, pale and alone in the sky.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Among all the things we studied in astronomy, the moon is still my favorite.”

_‘What a geek.’_ I shake my head and continue forward, when all of a sudden Kuroo grabbed my wrist. Gently, this time.

“You left without me.”

I didn’t answer.

“I wanted to say sorry for how I acted the other day.” He said. I looked up to see the usual cocky raven-haired boy with head bowed down like a puppy.

I nod. “I accept your apology. Let me say sorry too for the way I acted. I was… out of it.” I was about to take another step when Kuroo pulled me closer again. The cool spring wind riveted through the scene bellowing upon us. Kuroo’s face was only inches from mine and the wind was useless to keep the heat down.

“That’s not the only thing I want to say.”

I pushed him away. “Then, out with it!” I crossed my arms afraid he’d pull me in again.

His face. It was painted with hesitation, uncertainty, insecurity. _‘I can’t take it.’_

“Are you going to make me wait all night!?”

He opened his mouth. “No. I’ve been making you wait for too long.” I took a step back. His face was dead serious with an iron resolve.

“For a very long time…” He took a step forward and I took a step back again. “I’ve always stayed by your side as your childhood friend, but I haven’t been honest about who I love with you…”

I knew this day would come, but I can’t… no, I couldn’t comprehend. The moment stung all over my skin like a sunburn. Then, I remembered Shimizu. ‘No. I have to hear it or I will never move on from Kuroo. I need to hear this.’

I plant my feet firmly into the ground and look away to give me any sort of consolation.

“See, at first we would play, run around and pull off pranks with each other. We’d go to each other’s houses and get into all sorts of trouble and then, one day, you introduced me to something special to you- volleyball.” He paused.

“There was a glimmer in your eye every time you brought up volleyball, played it, saw it or saw Akiteru.” He ruffled the back of his head shyly.

“It made me wonder what’s so great about it and about him.” He took a deep inhale. “I was so happy the day you brought me to his game. The gym was packed and the crowds were crazy. I really didn’t understand the fuss. We were standing by the rail when you spotted your brother. I bet you didn’t notice. I made sure you wouldn’t, but I’d pout every time you beamed at him.”

“Beamed!?”

He laughed. “You just oozed, I love you, onii-chan!”

“Ugh! What is your point?”

Kuroo laughed. “ At that moment, I realized that this person was the person you looked up to, the person you respected and the person you wanted to have at your side for the rest of your life. For a boy like me who moved into the neighborhood, completely new to my environment, having a friend like you meant so much to me. You were my friend during a hard time, and I wanted to be that person to you. I wanted to be the person who made you beam.” He let out a heavy breath.

_‘Just say it. Just say you’re dating my brother.’_

“I still dread the day we saw Akiteru on the sidelines in high school. It was the day your world fell apart. I saw all the destruction that unfolded on your pretty pristine face that day. You were still, quiet and aloof as if you were too busy deconstructing the world within you until you, yourself, became a whole different Tsukishima.”

“Now, hold on-“He stepped forward and closed the distance between us. I was scared. My hands dropped to the side as he held unto my wrist again.

“Kei, what you didn’t notice was you weren’t the only one who changed.”

“Huh?”

“Remember what I told you back then? For a really long time, I always tried to be a good boy, to hold my tongue, watch my step and offer my agreement. Then, my mother left and it taught me one thing— not to hold back anymore. If you feel angry, be angry. If you feel sad, then cry. If you are in love, say it!

On that day, I promised to myself I would surpass your brother in character, skill, looks and become someone who could keep you beaming happy again because… Kei Tsukishima, I love you!”

My eyes widened. I needed to catch my breath. He didn’t hold onto my wrist anymore. Instead, I felt his fingers slide in between mine so naturally like it was meant to be. The friction, the roughness, the softness of our skins felt so familiar that clasping each other like that was second nature.

_‘Did I hear that right? No. Is this real? He said Kei Tsukishima… not Akiteru… but…’_ I was angry.

“D-do you expect me to believe you love me?” Something warm was rising in me. It was like a pot of boiling water overflowing, swelling up into pools and spilling. It was spilling everywhere.

“This must be a sick joke ‘cause every day you come to our house and play around Akiteru, messing around with him while I’m still asleep and adoring him from afar while I’m there!”

“Wh-what?”

_‘Oh no.’_ I looked pathetic. Streak of tears lined my face adding a fresh warmth against the evening cold. Meanwhile Kuroo stood absolutely confused like he had nothing to do with my poor state. I shook his hand off and tightly gripped the strap of my bag with both hands, hiding my heart underneath.

“What gave you the idea that I would be fucking with your brother?”

* * *

“That is crazy!”

_‘Ugh he’s doing his obnoxious laugh again. He could probably wake up the whole neighborhood with how loud he’s cackling_.’ I was thankful for it though. The heat rising in me was cooling down. Kuroo’s humor gave me a break to take deep breaths and get a hold myself. Spilling. My eyes were still spilling. I was constantly wiping them with my sleeves when he does it again.

Kuroo holds my wrist gently this time. He pulls it down to draw closer to me, to my face, and to get a better look at the swollen red bean I’ve become. Edges of my eyes and the tip of my nose are probably pink. My mouth must be trembling and wet from saliva. My breathing was still not quite calm. I was heaving. My chest rising and falling excessively.

“I’m sorry to say Kei, but your brother is far more perceptive than you are. When we both entered middle school, I guess my hormones were getting a bit too into you that he caught on to my feelings for you. Before he’d wake you up, he’d always pick a fight with me about it.”

“He couldn’t technically remove me from you since we were such a package deal as kids. He knew it would break your heart, especially as you were growing distant to him. He did try to threaten me with a fist fight. Of course, I always fought back. You can say he’s a contributor to my bad morning hair. However, he did concede to the existence of my feelings when he saw how much I paid attention everyday.”

“This morning, when we discovered you left without a word, Akiteru and I had a talk. He convinced me that it was time to tell you how I really feel. It’s hard, you know, not knowing if you would like me back, but Akiteru did make a point.”

_“I don’t mind if Kei hates you forever. However, I do mind that he would never know what his childhood friend really thought of him. The same goes for you. What would you get preserving the normal when you know you want more? The peace of mind that he would always be by your side? Aren’t you leaving for Tokyo? What if Kei leaves? Or worse, what if Kei gets taken by someone else? Would you be able to live with yourself being lukewarm with your feelings?”_

“There was a period when I despised him. I always kept an eye on him, afraid that maybe he’d tell you before I could do it properly. That Akiteru is a noble guy in his own way. Even if he hated me, he wouldn’t dishonor my feelings.”

“Anyway…” He trailed off, looking into my face.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I would be willing to walk to school together with you, go home together with you, wait up for you after class, join volleyball with you, pass by to always check up on you whenever you’re sick in spite of the fact that I was two grades higher than you, a guy with his own social life and capability to date. You could write it off as kindness, but you have to admit when a guy does that consistently, every day, without fail, for ten years, you shouldn’t think it’s kindness anymore.”

I blushed. “I’m not a lovey-dovey guy like you who would notice these things! I actually have a life! I have studies, Yamaguchi, volleyball…” I tried listing it down with my fingers, but I could see in the periphery that I was failing to convince him either way.

“For a smart ass, you are absolutely clueless about the most natural things.”

“What’s natural about this?”

“It’s natural for me to love you.” He inched his face closer to mine. Once again, we were forehead-to-forehead, hot breaths shared against the centimeters our mouths were apart.

“Wait! Watch what you’re touching!” His hands cupped my waist bordering the curve of my back. I felt the breadth of their grasp as well as their warmth. _‘I’m not the only one affected by this.’_

“You haven’t answered whether you accept, or better yet, return my love.”

_‘Dear god, what did I do in my past life to have this man fall in love with me?’_

With a softened temper, I left my mouth ajar letting Kuroo and I exchange the taste of spring.

* * *

“Wait!” The affectionate whispers in the ear, the heat of our intertwining and the wetness of our skins, painted my first experience with my first love.

Still heaving and holding unto Kuroo’s back tightly, pulling his uniform in all sorts of directions. He traced my shoulder with his lips. Looking up, I noticed the moon eclipsed by the elder cherry blossom trees that were finally in bloom.

Maybe I was thinking too much. Decisions in love aren’t choices you make based on a strategy for the game of life. Whether it’s pining, confessing, dating or breaking apart, these choices are actions rendered by the time, the place, the person you face and the person you are. All our words, thoughts and actions are a product of how we’ve grown and how we’re willing to grow. Once these accumulate at a certain point, every person will find the day when they’ll have their spring and their love will blossom too.

I feel ashamed that I may have had little agency into the start of this love. That’s a part of me. However, starting tonight, I’m choosing to nurture it until it keeps blossoming every single day, without fail, for the remaining years of my life.

I shook my head side-to-side _‘You wouldn’t think that’s kindness anymore.’_

“I…”

Kuroo stops his kisses to meet my heavily blushed face. My eyes were in a daze and my glasses skewed on my face. I must have looked like a mess. “What is it?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line, took a hard look at the man before me and said “I love you Tetsuro.”

The spring wind gently pushed through the trees showering us with the first blossoms of the year. Feeling the tender and soft touches of petals dancing through the air, I couldn’t help thinking, _‘I didn’t know cherry blossoms could bloom under the moon too.’_

**EPILOGUE:**

It’s been two years since that day.

I look at Yamaguchi. He looks excited. I give him a nudge, “Oi, calm down. You look like you’re planning to pounce on Yachi.” He nods. “I didn’t point that out for you to agree with. The point is not to pounce on Yachi.” I sneered.

‘Besides…’ I look out of the train window. ‘Who would want to pounce on anyone in this heat?’ Thank goodness the wedding will be in the cold air conditioned hotel rooms of Tokyo. I cup my face as I stare into the disappearing landscape. ‘Yamaguchi isn’t the only one.’

At the Shinjuku JR station, Yamaguchi and I amble through the crowds of people and ticket machines. ‘Damn, the humidity is horrible. It’s a good thing I packed lightly. I don’t think I could lug much around in this heat.’ I fan myself with the breadth of my hands. I turn my head side-to-side looking for Yamaguchi. ‘Ugh, where did he go this time?’

“Huh!?” A sweat streaked hand grabbed a corner of my light pink, short-sleeved button down. I flinch. ‘Could that be?’

“Ya-Yamaguchi! Are you okay?” I bend down to see the sorry state of the guy. He was heaving clouds of air from lugging his huge duffel around. To make matters worse, he was adamant of wearing some skinny denim pants and a dark gray t-shirt. ‘That’s got to be hot.’

“I told you that you should have changed.”

He instantly snapped back to life. “B-but I’ve got to show Yachi! I’ve got to show her that I can be just as cool and good-looking as any of these Tokyo boys!”

I shook my head out of disappointment, “Oi Yamaguchi, between looking good and surviving to see another day, I’d much rather pick dressing shabby.” I said throwing my hands up in the air.

He pouted. “Of course you’d say that! You’re so easy on the eyes no matter what you wear Tsuki.” He smiled suspiciously all of a sudden. “But… I have to say you didn’t waste any expense smelling like spring flowers on the way here.”

I don’t know if it was the heat or Yamaguchi’s attempt to push my buttons, but I think I was starting to turn red. “Shut up Yamaguchi! I’m leaving you here if you don’t hurry.” I walked dragging a half-dead dehydrated Yamaguchi by foot.

We finally arrived at the hotel lobby and received our hotel keys at the reception. The place was a classy glass enveloped building soaring at 50 storeys. Yamaguchi and I walked through their courtyard gardens and made our way to their chrome elevators. ‘Coming from the two of them, it’s surprising that they would choose this place. I always thought they were a tad simpler… okay maybe one of them.’

Yamaguchi and I reached the 33rd floor and searched through the wall plaques for directions for our hotel room numbers until we finally found them.

I waved to Yamaguchi as we separated into our rooms. Closing the door, I notice the beautiful daylight leaking from the wall window. The room was spacious and decorated in luxurious golden leaf patterns against the taupe walls. The plump white bed sheets bounced the sunlight across the space illuminating the room even further.

Knock.

I furrow my brows and sigh. ‘What does Yamaguchi need this time?’ I drop my bag to the side of the bed and walk to the door.

As I opened it, a tall well-built fellow, donning thin rimmed glasses emerged leaning on the doorway.

“Hi babe.” He smiled smugly while I scowl.

‘He looks really good with his hair down.’

Kuroo was now a university student studying molecular biology and had been gone for the past year for an exchange program in MIT. Though I was genuinely happy for him, I couldn’t deny that the time and distance was disarming, especially since the relationship had only been one-year old at the time. Regardless, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

_‘Ugh, I can feel it.’_ I start sweating nervously. It’s so strong… and thick in the air. _‘His…his…. Hunger for affection and skinship is too strong.’_ I furrow my brows.

He lunged forward. _‘Shit I’m not ready for a full-on release of Kuroo’s repressed love!’_ With his brawny hands, he grabs me by the waist and embraces me in a tight hug. The warmth from his chest is hotter than the sun outside. As I was pressed deeper into his embrace, I could hear his heart pounding against his chest. _‘Kuroo.’_

I look up. It was such a jarring figure. A grown burly man towering over me, arms bulging to hold me down and a heart racing against his wide chest had a faint pink blush and needy eyes under his specs. _‘How could I resist?’_

We lock lips for a few seconds before I pull away, probably in the same deep pink blush, saying “Welcome home.”

“Ahem.”

Before we knew it, Saeko stood behind us, having accidentally found us in such a scene.

“I’m sorry I had to interrupt, but before you get anymore lovey-dovey, I was specifically instructed by the couple to make sure everyone attended the orientation for the program tomorrow night.” She smiled thinly. She must have been as uncomfortable as we were.

We quickly pulled away from each other, ironed out any traces of creases and folds and fixed ourselves before her. She waved to us to follow her through the hall.

“I really am sorry for interrupting. It’s just they’ve been a bit concerned about the organization of the event. You know how these things go…”

As we pass by an intersection of halls, I catch sight of a man with dark honey hair locking a poor boy into a corner with his arms. He was towering against him making his height and weight a form of intimidation. We were about to take a turn with Saeko’s lead when I caught a glimpse of orange. Hinata.

“All kinds of things can happen at a wedding.” That’s what she said.


	2. The Touch of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata returns to Tokyo for the wedding of his old friend. He goes around the metropolitan mall to go about last-minute shopping while remembering his life back then. Who knew scavenging for a wedding gift could take you down memory lane and bring you to some familiar faces? The story takes HInata on a crossroad journey of choosing what kind of love he want to have last.

**The Touch of Summer**

I held the delicate box cradling the most beautiful diamond rings. The silvery sheen of the box and the white sparkle of the diamonds itself gently reflected against me. It oozed a sense of luxury _. ‘Now I understand why these shiny rocks were such a rave. They’re such a huge ego boost in your hands.’_ Nonetheless, they weren’t what I was looking for.

I place the box down and push it towards the sales lady. “I’m sorry but I don’t think my friend would be happy with me giving his lovely wife jewelry.” I leave the jeweler and make my way to a chic little cafe from across the street. Taking my seat, I flip through the menu while still thinking over the gift.

 _‘The 50-carat earrings I saw would actually look pretty good on her, but…”_ An image of a jealous Tanaka seething with hostility appeared to him. He’d probably say things like, “Are you trying to steal my Kiyoko with all the money you’re making off!?”I nervously laughed. That would most likely be Tanaka’s response. I release a deep exhale. _‘So what could I give?’_

Swimsuit for the summer? _‘Tanaka would kill me if he found out I knew Shimizu’s measurements.’_

A bottle of wine? _‘Does Shimizu drink?’_

A puppy? _‘They both might not be so keen for having animals in their first home.’_

Furrowing my brows, I planted my head into the table while ruffling my hair for some ideas to fall out. “Tomorrow’s already the big day and I still have no gift for Shimizu and Tanaka!” I was literally breaking into a cold sweat.

Then, all of a sudden I overhear a young child at the counter. “Mommy! Mommy! I want candy!” The mother patiently hands the child an old-fashioned pink wrapped candy. It was a spherical taffy gum that was the fad way back.

* * *

It was two years ago when I was going to play for first time in an official match. To say I was nervous was an understatement. The atmosphere was suffocating as you’d look from left to right. There were so many other volleyball players, so many unfamiliar faces and so much information from the environment that I couldn’t help but get overwhelmed. I took a stroll thinking maybe letting my body loose could help me chill out.

No matter how many rounds I did though, I noticed my head becoming lighter like succumbing to a fever. At first, I thought it was the heat of the day and shook off the feeling thinking that my head would cool down later. But then, my eyes started to dart and wander everywhere from anxiety and my vision blurred for a few seconds. Before I knew it, I accidentally tripped myself and bumped into another player.

There were sounds of gasps as the volleyball player and his team were about to start a commotion with my limp body. I tried to get a hold of myself to respond, but even their speech was muffled to my ears. _‘Does anxiety really do this to you? It’s my first official game. Am I really going to get in trouble?’_ Luckily, someone steps in. I find myself held up by his arm that slithered down my waist and embracing my lifeless body. He bows as a form of apology to the players I bothered and turns to me. The next thing I knew, I blacked out in his arms.

The person I found once waking up was none other than Kageyama. He sat beside me at a quiet and dark corner away from the crowd. Immediately, he noticed I was conscious again.

“Kageyama-“ Before I could fully form a sentence he takes something out of his jacket pocket. It was a pink spherical candy. Quickly understanding his cue, I gladly took it from his hand and tried unwrapping it, but my fingers trembled. “Wow, am I that nervous. Sorry Kageyama, just hold for a minute.” I sit myself right up to better concentrate untwisting the foil wrapper. My fingers pinched in the right place, but the normal force that I’d naturally use couldn’t be found. I was trying to verbalize my apology to Kageyama when he snatched the candy from my hand and proceeded to unwrap it himself.

“Thanks.” I manage and was about to reach out to take it when he shoves the thing into my mouth. His white cold, soft fingers brushed against my pale, supple lips.

“Just eat it.” He says flatly.

The sugar tasted great but the real comfort I had was having the lingering cold of Kageyama’s fingers brush against my lip. The chill was such a contrast to the heat of the environment that it created a gentle wake-up call in my system. It let me chew the taffy more energetically giving Kageyama a little peace of mind. I rested my eyes at Kageyama’s hand again. _‘How can anything with a beating heart have a touch that cold? Then again, this is Kageyama we’re talking about. His heart should be stone cold.’_ I joked to myself.

“What happened back there?” He asked once he noticed the furrow between my brows.

“I was just dizzy from the nerves. That’s all.” I waved off.

“Really?” He raised a brow. His cold blue eyes settled on mine. “Whether that’s true or not, I don’t think you should play today.” He stood up searching for any signs of the rest of Karasuno from our corner. His body perked up spotting someone he could come forward to regarding the situarion. I panic.

“No!” I instantly react and grab his leg. He grunts.

“Oi, Hinata!” He tries to weasel his foot out from my grasp, but I just keep my hold tighter.

“Please don’t tell them.” I whispered. This was one of my most humbling moments. The heat of my pride being swallowed up to grovel on the ground to Kageyama turned to tears. They sat on the edges of my eyes, not willing to give him the benefit of seeing them trickle down my face as I begged him to let me play. With as much control and courage I had, I looked up to his blue downturned eyes showing my determination to play. _‘Pride or not, this is the day I’m going to play.’_

“I’ve been training every day for this. This is my first official volleyball game with an actual volleyball team. You don’t know what this means to me.” I buckle down on his leg tighter. It was cold, like his touch. I wonder if that was his way of being nervous too.

He gave a stern look at my state, examining the wetness of my eyes and the heat of my skin, before retorting, “The moment I see you collapse or show any signs of fainting, I’ll tell Daichi about this.” Surprised at his reply, I let go of his leg leaving him to freely walk away from me.

I picked myself up.

I’ve never stooped so low, literally low! The humiliation and pain of having to beg Kageyama would stay with me. I had no choice. _‘I won’t let a bunch of nerves or my pride get in the way of me playing!’_ I needed to be at my best at this point to save myself from Kageyama tattling on me. Luckily, everything went well with the match against Tokonami. I had no real physical slip ups after.

Kageyama and I never spoke about the incident. Though, ever since then, I’d find a piece of candy in my locker or my bag whenever we had an official match. _‘No doubt it’s Kageyama.’_ I always thought.

“Oi Hinata! What are you smiling stupidly for?” Noya would barge in.

“No-noya! It’s nothing! I just thought of something.”

“Something? Or someone?” Suga would chime in from Noya’s behind. “Oh, did someone leave you a love letter?”

I held my ground and barricaded Suga and Noya from taking a peek into my locker. Quickly, I jabbed the piece of candy deeper into the locker, under my sweats. That candy was like a little secret of ours and I didn’t want it to be ruined.

After that day though, I realized I should start returning the gesture. At first, I’d leave the same kind of candy with a note saying “Thank you!” before the start of the club. Then, I’d return to my club room locker searching for my change of clothes, and, instead, finding a mint with a reply saying, “Thank me with better spikes.”

I crumpled the note instantly. The scrunch of the paper giving me utter satisfaction. However, I couldn’t help finding it funny in itself. _‘That idiot.’_ The notes and the candies continued. It spilled into our everyday transforming from competitive pokes at each other to friendly banters to curious “how are you?” You could say for over the course of half a year, we’ve had conversations that way and, weirdly, we never thought to stop.

One day, it did stop.

It was the day after we lost to Aobajohsai. I really thought we could win that. No. I knew we could win, but that day, Kageyama was off his game and it affected everyone. I mean that in more of the sense that Kageyama had become a pivotal force in Karasuno that his being human reinforces our need to get stronger. We knew the game wasn’t on Kageyama. It was on all of us, but I’m not sure he really understood that.

We finished another club practice and I checked my locker door. There’s still no candy and no note. _‘He must be giving himself a hard time. I should talk to him, but how?’_

The next day, I decided to take a jog. I huff through the thick cold morning. I push my body through fog and mist making good time around curves and bends. _‘Text and email is hardly the way to talk to Kageyama. He’d most likely ignore it. So I guess-’_ Then, I heard a pitter patter from the merging street on the other side of the fork. I speed even faster through my route certain of my destination in spite of the mist. The sound of our steps get closer and closer until I collide with another jogger at the intersection _. ‘I can always ambush him on his runs.’_ The collision dispersed the mist revealing a Kageyama that fell butt first into the ground. He was obviously sore from how bad he couldn’t pick himself up yet. He lifted his gaze to the culprit of the accident- me. I was on all fours against the pavement breaking into a nervous sweat from his killer stare than from the actual fall.

“I’m so sorry Kageyama, but what are the odds that we’d bump into each other like this?” I chimed.

“Tch.” He continued rubbing the side of his rear end. Once he was fully convinced his body was good to go, he picked himself up, dusted off all the grime and left me to die on the road without a single word.

I was dumbfounded. No conversation at all. “What? Dude I’m on the ground! You’re just leaving me here? You’re not gonna even offer any help?” I yelled at his disappearing figure.

I was fuming! I realized a decent conversation with a stone cold hearted guy like him would never work. _‘I should have known. No ounce of decency could come from that guy! I guess defeat is the only way he’ll listen to me!’_ I lifted myself off the pavement and raced towards him. _‘If you don’t want to talk, I’m gonna make you talk!’_ I caught up to his running pace, but my presence didn’t seem to garner any recognition of him slowing down at all. “You’re kidding me!” I gritted my teeth and tried to overtake him, but the process only fueled him to run faster. We were locked in a never-ending competition of surpassing each other.

“You idiot! I want to talk!”

“Talk about how you’re going to lose to me!”

“This is not about the race you idiot!”

We nudged each other out of the way until Kageyama lost his footing bringing me down with him on his fall. We tumbled off the pavement and into the small patch of green in between bends and curves. We kept rolling and tumbling through thickets and bushes until we finally landed on a hard undergrowth hidden among trees.

Thud.

“Ugh!” My vision was black and my body felt sore. I slowly opened my eyes to assess the situation and met the obscured face of Kageyama. I glanced at the side. I found myself trapped in between his arms, but immediately noticed that they were trembling. He must have been trembling from mustering all the strength he had to brace the impact with his arms so he wouldn’t end up falling on top of me.

“Oi, Kageyama are you okay?” I tried to lift myself up from the ground to help him when-

“Don’t get up!” He cut in. “I’ll move first.” Under the shade of the trees, it was hard to tell what his expression was, but it was clear he didn’t want me to come any closer. I lifted my hands up in defense letting him do his thing. The shadow of his body moved gently above me, concealing and revealing light from the canopies.

He slowly and unsteadily lifted one arm at a time and cushioned the weight of his torso on his legs. Little glimpses of sunlight to shined upon his face revealing a pinkish flesh.

_‘No, did he hurt himself?’_

“Hey Kageyama-“ I quickly sat upright and reached out. I panicked at the sight of the pink flesh on his face. “I think you’re hurt!” I grabbed his arm. I flinched a bit from the cold touch, but keep a tight hold on him anyway.

“Oi!”

I end up tightening my grip even harder and pulled him my way. The force sent Kageyama’s body sprawled against mine. His hands back in the dirt behind my arms and his legs spread between mine. Then, I saw it. Only a few centimeters from mine, Kageyama’s flustered face donned a deep blush that spread from ear to ear. He caught me staring and averted meeting my gaze. It seemed like he was holding his breath, afraid if he opened his mouth something could happen. I cupped his face making certain there was nothing else to his pale face.

“Kageyama-“ I began. Inching closer with my stark determination.

“I’m fine you idiot!” He shouted at my face realizing my intention to close the distance. I laughed. I was so shocked by the volume of his reaction that I completely let go of him. He quickly retreated back and averted my eyes again. He tensed up to clear his throat and said, “I know what you’re gonna say. So what if we lost? We’ll just have to get stronger. There’s no use talking about it or crying over spilled milk. That’s such a waste of time. We should throw all the memories of yesterday and work towards the tomorrow we want so-“He gripped the fabric of his shorts. “You don’t have to check up on me. I’m fine. I know what I need to do. I just need to get stronger.”

My eyes widened. Now, I got pissed. I tighten my fists into a ball. _‘We know already. We know how you take really good care of us as much as you would take care of yourself. That’s why-‘_ I dive into my short pockets and search through it. The rustling of the fabric was deafening against the silence until I finally touched a scrunch of foil. _‘Let me care for you even in the slightest bit.’_ I throw the piece of candy and note at his bowed head making sure it made a crisp thump upon impact.

“You idiot!” I yell at him. I give a hard look with my hazel eyes. “I always know you will be fine. I always know you’ll get up. I always know you’ll get stronger. I just want you to know that it’s okay. It’s okay to be sad, to fall and to be weak. Most of all, it’s okay to be all of these in front of me!” I feel a slight warmth swelling at the edge of my eyes. _‘Idiot.’_

“You know why?” I shut my eyes remembering all the exchanged conversations through paper, all the caring glances and faint touches during plays. These pent up feelings started to spill from the edges of my eyes.

“That’s because I really like you Kageyama!” I blurted. With what little sight I had, I saw Kageyama’s body stiffen. _‘I wonder if he’s angry.’_

All of a sudden, I spotted him charge towards me. Ready to get punched in the face, I braced myself. Instead, I feel the cold fleshed embrace. Slowly, I lift my head to look into him with my tear-stained face and my mouth agape in between gasps and sobs. He looked at my groveling state kindly. Once again, I was in the most humbling state and it was him that not only could find me like this, but also turn me into this mess. Only him. He brings a calm rhythm to my sobs as he crosses his lips into mine. The lack of air ironically giving me much stillness inside. His lips were soft and his motions were clumsy, but it did well to quiet my mind. After, I plummeted my head into his chest, while he carefully intertwined his hands into mine. We were so awkward and shy. We didn’t know how else to proceed after. Luckily our smooth, soft and unblemished skin offered no friction at all enabling us to communicate just between touches, rustles and traces.

“Suki da yo.”

In that little thicket of green, we shared many firsts. We were nervous and trembling throughout our sweet and awkward exchanges. Sweat staining our clothes until the sun signaled noon. We decided to get out of the grove hand-in-hand leaving the candy and note that said “How are you?”

* * *

_It’s been 2 years now and I haven’t been able to ask that question ever since we broke up.’_ I prop my head up with one hand while staring out of the shop window. I wait while watching streams of people pass by. ‘ _Now where is he?’_ I patiently search for a person with dark blonde hair in the crowd.

 _'There!’_ I spot a boy in a loose ponytail and sunglasses. He was dressed in a pastel green colored t-shirt, white shorts and red sneakers. I wave at him from a distance. He notices and smiles. Opening the cafe door, he takes off his sun glasses letting the coolness of the air conditioned space seep through his skin. _‘He’s obviously bothered by the heat.’_ I laugh deep inside. He quickly took a seat across me and began fanning himself with the menu.

“Shoyo, let’s get this over with before I die!”

I smiled at my best friend, Kenma.

“You really didn’t have to come here to help me do some shopping.” I say while feeling the irritated aura from across the table.

He clicked his tongue. “And whose money are you shopping with?” I freeze in guilt. _‘He got me there.’_

“Shoyo, you only recently signed a contract with Black Jackals so it’s only recently you’ve been gaining considerable income. Save your money. Besides-“ He darts his honey colored eyes to me. “I don’t mind lending money, but I do mind if you waste it on useless things.” I freeze.

_‘This is, without a doubt, the kind of feeling you get when you go shopping with your mother-in-law. This is a tense examination of character under the guise of public recreation.’_

We move on from the conversation and order our meals. We catch up on all the news regarding everyone.

“So have you talked to Kuroo recently? I heard he came back from his exchange program.”

Kenma waved it off. “Eh, not really. He updated me that he was back and I told him I was happy he came home safely, but I mentally checked out of the conversation once he flooded our chat with his musings about Tsuki.” He scoops a spoonful of rice and shoves it in annoyance. That guy doesn’t seem like it, but he’s incredibly clingy. Even when he moved away to Miyagi, he would still bug me about if I was eating right and, mostly, about Tsuki. It might sound mean, but I’m happy he left me in Tokyo. I don’t know how Tsuki manages it.”

I laugh. “Yeah, especially the long distance since they only started the relationship recently at the time.” I mused.

“Well, time, distance and even societal constructs don’t really matter to Kuroo when he’s hooked on someone. All the more the fact that the person is his first love.” Kenma snorted.

“First love, huh?” I take a munch of my garlic bread.

“How about you? Have you talked to Kageyama since you got back?”

I instantly choke at this question. The thick crust of the bread was lodged in the wrong pipe. “Water! Water!” I manage to gasp while desperately reaching for a glass. Kenma coolly slides the thing closer to me, not worried at all if I live or die.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He sips on his water.

I firmly plant my glass down the table after taking a gulp of water. “We talk as much.”

“Only on the group chat you mean.” Kenma points out with his spoon. “You only talk when there are other people with you, but you never really talked alone.”

I nod in guilt.

“Do you still find it hard?”

I cup my tired head, averting his eyes. “Wouldn’t anyone have a hard time talking to someone they really loved?”

“Do you still feel that ‘what if’?”

“Hm, sometimes.”

I thought being in a relationship would make things easier, that it would make Kageyama kinder and more open with me. That wasn’t the case.

I recall the day we broke up at the shopping mall. We were on a date and Kageyama was being Kageyama. He was cold and blunt as usual, but I expected him to be a bit gentler in our relationship. I guess my fault was having expectations at all. I really wanted to have a sweet, kind and romantic relationship with him, but it was so hard to manage my expectations from reality. I’d want him to compliment me, but it was second nature for him to whoop critique on my play. I wanted to walk to school with him, but he’d prioritize taking his morning jogs. I wanted to go on a romantic date to the movies, but he would rather spend his weekends doing a bit of volleyball at the park.

I was happy he wanted me at his side regardless of what we were doing, but I didn’t like the constant disillusionment I had to face between what I wanted and what Kageyama could give. Plus, I think it was starting to put a toll on Kageyama. I could feel him second guess himself, uncertain anymore of what he wanted. Bit by bit, we were pulling on each other to the point we didn’t know who we were, what we liked to eat, what we liked to do or what we liked to see, as individuals. There was a line blurring between Shoyo and the Shoyo with Kageyama and vise versa on his side.

Put simply, we didn’t meet each other’s expectations and we couldn’t accept the realities we each could give. I couldn’t be his same carefree, fun-loving Shoyo and he couldn’t become the romantic, sweet and kind Kageyama I wanted. It wasn’t that we did something bad unto each other. We just didn’t work.

“Shoyo, let’s go.” Kenma wipes the edges of his mouth and takes off from his seat to foot the bill.

“What? Wait Kenma! Let me pay this time!”

He hollers, “Whose money are you paying with again?”

I break a sweat. I am literally Kenma’s sugar baby.

We leave the cafe and amble our way through the streets. “Kenma where are you going?”

He turns back, “To the department store of course.”

We stood before the entrance of the metropolitan department store. It had various signs and sections for different kinds of merchandise. I was about to charge in when I nearly tripped face first into the floor with the Herculean hold Kenma had on my shirt.

“Hold on. Before you aimlessly storm in and get lost, I need you to think about what you’re going to get Shimizu and Tanaka.”

“Uh.”

“Don’t tell me you were going to just window shop and take whatever looks good at the time?” He placed his palm on his forehead like an exasperated mom until he slid it down unto his scowl.

“Shoyo, think about it. What are Shimizu and Tanaka going to do after the wedding?” He wagged his finger.

“Sleep.”

“No, after the sleep.”

“They’ll go to their honeymoon.”

“Yes, but after the honeymoon.”

I pause and connected. “Sexy time?”

“Shoyo! Before that?” Kenma looked upset at even himself for having me as his best friend.

“Move in?” I muse.

“Yes Shoyo! They’re going to move into their new home so we should buy a gift that they could use in their house. In short, domestic things!” He drags me begrudgingly into the kitchenware section. “The things I do for friendship.” He mumbles to the wind while heaving me from behind. I smile. _‘Yeah, this is how Kenma loves.’_

We reach the kitchenware section and find shelves of dining sets, cooking ware and baking implements. They were all beautifully displayed under the white gleaming lights with a sign that said “If you break it, we consider it sold.” You could say that the sign was a terrifying reminder how more I could get further indebted to Kenma if I wasn’t careful.

Holding one porcelain plate in one hand and a glass cup in the other, I sighed trying to figure out what would be the best gift. “If it’s something too fragile, it might not be good to lump around with all sorts of gifts during the event.”

“Oh you’re thinking carefully now.” Kenma harped. “If you’re worried about that, why not get something from the kitchen appliance section, like a microwave.” I nod acknowledging the idea, but I didn’t think it would be the most convenient for them. “We wouldn’t know what their electrical requirements are or how big their kitchen is so the gift might end up becoming a burden.”

“Wow Shoyo!” Kenma clapped slowly. “When you put your mind to it, you can really be considerate.”

“Hey! I’m always considerate!” I joke sticking my tongue out. I return the dishware and glass to their respective racks and continue to stroll across the aisle.

“Kenma, I’ll just be in the kitchenware area!” I holler.

The kitchen merchandise were around 5 rows and columns of shelves filled with kitchen implements. At the center of the whole section was a quaint olive green kitchen showroom complete with light wood cupboards, an island and an oven. I brushed my hands against the grain of the faint wood, the stainless steel and the black granite countertop. I’ve always liked kitchens. They oozed the soothing comfort of the home. _‘Maybe I should buy them something they could use to cook with.'_

I beamed at the thought. I was about to begin my long slither through the section when I heard a bang from the other side of the showroom. _‘Someone must have banged their head against the hanging pots.’_ I turned my head and met eye-to-eye with none other than Kageyama.

Dead silence.

Before we could react, another set of feet stepped into the showroom. “Hey, Shoyo are you done looking?” Kenma commented flatly before suddenly freezing in place at the sight of Kageyama. He flicks his eyes between me and Kageyama and quickly reacts to the situation.

“Oh, hi Kageyama. Fancy seeing you here.” He says nervously.

_'Smooth.’_

As they make conversation, I tried to subtly shuffle to Kenma’s side.

“Hmmm.” He nods to Kenma and then turns his attention to me. I flinch.

“It’s nice seeing you Hinata. How are you?”

_‘He just completely ignored Kenma! Ugh. He hasn’t changed one bit.’_

I relax a little and look at Kageyama. He was wearing a V-neck purple shirt that hugged his torso casually showing the edge of his chest and the curves of his oblique muscles. He was also the only one who would dare wear dark blue skinny denim at the height of summer, but it silhouetted his athletic frame well.

“I’m doing fine.” I manage to say. After so, we immediately avert each other’s eyes creating a lull in the conversation once again.

“So what are you doing here?” Kenma cut in dispelling the awkward air as needed.

Kageyama turns to him. “Shopping for a wedding gift.”

Kenma bursts into a laugh. “You and Shoyo are just the same!” He wipes a tiny tear from his eye.

He looked surprised. “Oh really?” He turns to me. “Well maybe we can meet up and go back to the hotel together.”

The thought of being alone with Kageyama in a car send me in a panicked daze. I frantically wave my hands in the air and casually reply, “Oh no, no no. Atsumu is going to pick me up anyway.”

* * *

The reality was I didn’t meet Atsumu right after breaking up with Kageyama. No. In fact, I met him two years after. I was pretty lost back then. We failed to make it into the nationals in our second year and we didn’t even qualify in our third year. What’s worse was in spite of being on the same team, Kageyama continued forging forward in volleyball by being invited in more youth camps, leagues and organizations.

I was slowly wallowing in self-pity for a while. Then, Kenma texted, “You need a beach vacation.”

It was a hot sunny day at the beach and I was holding hands with Kenma. He was deeply concerned about me for the past years. He was the first to reach out to me when he heard of the break-up. He was the voice by my side while I was sobbing over the phone. He was the embrace that held me together while I was about to shatter into pieces. He was the anchor that made sure I never spiraled in any form of self-hate. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I loved him. Then again, he wouldn’t be so lucky. I was in a really pitiful state.

“Shoyo, do you want to get some ice cream?” He mused.

“Uh-hu!” I nodded. We let go of each other’s hands and trotted into the small beach shack, each of us grabbing a popsicle. We licked the candy blue ice while walking along the shoreline. The summer heat was beating on us. Kenma would have complained by now, but he was trying to enjoy the moment for me. Kenma was never an outwardly affectionate person, but whenever he could, he would show he cared through these thoughtful acts of his.

We sat down nearby where the water would surge into the sand. We looked out into the sea and felt the cool breeze hit us in small wisps. Kenma’s hair swayed with the wind and he looked terribly at ease. I was a bit jealous that he seemed so carefree. I quickly turned away realizing how long I’ve just been staring at him.

_'When will I be really okay?’_

“You know-“ I turned my head to Kenma’s side. “It’s okay, Shoyo. You can take it as slow as you want.” He said as he tucked loose strands of hair behind his ear. “You don’t have to be alright right away, especially not for me.” I smiled kindly. “Thank you Kenma.” I squeezed his hand and was about to swell up in tears when a volleyball bounced its way between us.

Particles of sand splattered from the ground ruining the sobbing mood. Kenma looked irritated and darted his brown eyes on the shadowy figure towering above us. I looked back.

There was a man sharply sculpted around the edges crevices of his body wearing nothing else than red swimming trunks that hemmed at the top of his knee. His skin was slightly tanned and his muscles were covered in a sheen of sweat that gleamed under the summer sun. It was Miya Atsumu.

“Atsumu!”

He picked up the ball that found its way between Kenma and I. “Hey shrimpy!” Seeing his hands and arms up close, I noticed how more defined the curves and cuts of his muscles were and how well manicured his nails were. _‘Like Kageyama’s.’_

He noticed I was staring and I broke eye contact from him.

“Why? Do you like what you see?” He said cockily.

Before I could reply back, Kenma answered “More like appalled. A player like you who can’t keep the ball in the game seems sad.”

Instantly, the atmosphere turned hostile between Kenma and Atsumu. “Well shrimpy no. 2, why don’t you play with us and see how hard it is to do beach volleyball?”

“Gladly!” Kenma bit back.

Atsumu hollered to his disinterested look-alike Miya Osamu. You could only differentiate between the two of them by their personalities, their hair and the color of their swimming trunks. Atsumu’s hair was a dark blonde color that suited the red of his swimwear. Meanwhile Osamu’s hair was a dark ash grey that contrasted well with the dark green of his swimming trunks. _‘It must be fun going shopping for these two_.’

“Hey Osamu!” Atsumu hollered. “Are you game to go against these small fries?” His twin just gave a nod and returned to his position on the beach court. _‘What a really disinterested guy.’_ I look towards Kenma to fire him up for the game, but once I turned I saw a volcano of unrestrained competitive fury about to erupt. A bead of sweat fell from my face as I smiled nervously. _‘I guess he doesn’t need any firing up.’_

“Game on!”

Kenma and I were positioned on the right side of the court. I stationed myself on the back while Kenma placed himself upfront. It was perfect for the kind of positions we had, but a bit annoying for Kenma because he was upfront and face-to-face with Atsumu.

“Let’s see what you guys can do.” He hollered.

Osamu was the first to serve. He threw the ball up in the air and leapt to smash it into the other side. I raced towards its trajectory confident that I could receive it. I secured my position, but, at the last second, my foot sank into the rough sand making my receive at an angle. Luckily, Kenma caught on and headed towards the ball waiting for it to land on his fingertips for a set when the ball was pushed back by the wind inching it away from Kenma’s fingertips. He panicked and let his knee bump the ball up as high as it could.

_'That was close.’_

I made way for a run up and dashed towards the net. _‘I’ll let you guys have a look at what a spike from the sky looks like.’_ I kicked the sand with the balls of my feet and was ready to catapult myself towards the big blue when I noticed half of my other foot was caught in a lump of sand slowing my acceleration and cutting my jump height in half. I frantically looked up thinking maybe I could salvage the spike with a dink and, instead, found the volleyball solidly planted on my face. The impact knocked me straight into the harsh and hot arms of the yellow sand.

I heard a hard cackle. “I told you beach volleyball is nothing like volleyball indoors.” Trudging through the sand and bending down, Atsumu grabs the ball and throws it back to Osamu. _‘Dude, you’re not going to even lend a hand!’_ Hands on his waist, he mockingly asks “So, do you still want to play?”

“A point hardly means anything. Serve up and we’ll show you.” Kenma acidly retorted from the back.

I ran back behind Kenma and whispered, “Kenma, it’s the wind and the sand.” He nodded. “We’ll have to lose some points first to adjust to things, but we’ll get them back anyhow.” I agreed.

The first few points were scored by the Miya twins or, more appropriately, by our blunders. I kept sinking into the sand whenever I jumped and Kenma was still trying to get a hang of the wind. Halfway through the first set, we were lagging behind by 5 points, but Kenma and I were getting to grips with the environment. _‘I think it’s time to go full on offence.’_

We finally had better rallies and plays throughout the day. The Miya twins had their own set of blunders landing face first into the sand and coughing particles up after. Atsumu would sometimes sink into the sand when he was about to set. Osamu would miss the ball by only a few inches because of the wind. However, my favorite moment was when it was Osamu’s turn to serve. Kenma and I prepared to receive shaking the sand from our feet and securing our form. He threw the ball up. _‘Here it comes!’_

Bam!

We blinked.

The ball found itself smacking the innocent behind of Atsumu’s head launching the man into the sand under the net. “Are you okay?” I shouted as I ran towards the net. I furrowed my brows nervously as I dug up Atsumu from the burial mound made by the impact. His voice reverberated through the sand. “Osamu!” He resurrected himself to life and turned his hostile energy to his brother who, in spite of being the perpetrator, had little interest of what became of him. Atsumu’s face was livid with irritation.

I laughed.

It was a loud hearty laugh. In that instant, I felt eyes on me. I turned and opened my crinkled eyes to see Kenma. He slightly smiled. “Shoyo, I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Oi, you know what, you have a cute laugh.” I turn to the other side and froze when I realized Atsumu’s face was only inches from mine. His head was propped up with his arms which donned a thin patches of sand on the side. He had a cunning smile that curved at one end and russet eyes that locked intensely into mine. For a moment, it looked like he was coming closer allowing the skin of our arms to brush roughly against each other.

“Oi!” Kenma kicked the rear end of Atsumu making his body roll into the sand once more. “Get away from him!” Kenma grabs me, lifting me away from the sand- covered corpse of Atsumu. I look towards Osamu to alleviate the situation, but once again he couldn’t care less.

“Argh! You don’t just kick someone already on the ground like that!” Atsumu exploded unto Kenma.

“Well, you don’t stick your face that close to someone else’s!” Kenma retorted.

“You lazy ass cat!”

“You sly fox!”

And that was how, Osamu and I ended up switching partners. Osamu was with Kenma and I was with Atsumu. Of course, Osamu and I had little say in the matter.

It was my first time playing with Atsumu, but I decided not think too much about it and just give it a go. It’s fun-loving volleyball or so I thought.

“Hey Hinata, I’m playing to win here so you better not fumble with my sets.” He warned. I froze afraid. _‘When was the last time I got as scared like this?’_ It didn’t matter. I just needed to play at my 100%.

“Shit!” Osamu’s serve catches me off guard, but I quickly react to it while falling into the ground.

“Oi shrimpy! Get up!” Atsumu yells as he positions for a set.

I frantically race and run-up towards the net with little logic or plan _. ‘Shit! I didn’t wait for Atsumu’s set!’_ Surprisingly though, I find the ball launched right in front of me as if he knew where I’d go. I smacked the spinner into the sandy ground between Kenma and Osamu.

I held my breath and took a good look at my palm. That right there was a freak quick. I looked at Atsumu who was walking back into position. “Don’t tell me you think Tobio is the only who can pull that off with you.” He waved off.

Later on, we took a break. Kenma and Osamu left to get the group some drinks leaving Atsumu and I to sit by the beach. He had one leg stretched forward to the shore and the other bent to cradle his chin. The day was getting darker.

“Seems like you really like this."

I tilted my head to one side. “Like what?”

“Beach volleyball.”

“Yeah-“ I pulled myself into a little ball. “It’s fun.”

“Stick with it.”

“Huh?”

“When you get that feeling or that attraction, that sense of being alive, don’t let it go. There’s a reason why over millions of other sports and games out there in the world, you would fall in love with this one.”

_'I didn’t expect that from him.’_

“Hm.” I replied back.

“Look shrimpy, I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been watching you.” He swung his torso to face me squarely. This time he leaned back with elbows dipped into the sand tensing his arms every so often. “I like the Hinata I saw today. You should know that I always found you interesting since the day we fought at the Spring Tournament. You had that thing going for volleyball, the thing you showed today.”

“Aliveness.”

He continued turning his body towards me. Trickles of sand falling from the crevices of his hips. “I’ve been watching all your matches. Something happened to you in spring. You used to have a fire in you every time you played the game. You sparked up at every challenge and opponent you faced. You had a sunny swag to you in the court. Then, all of a sudden, that sunshine dissipated. Where did it go?”

He raised a hand to my face. “Don’t answer that. I don’t need to know. I just need you to know that I saw the old Hinata today and maybe it isn’t such a coincidence that it’s while playing beach volleyball.”

My eyes widened.

“Anyway, I’m telling you this because-“He combed his hair back looking down and lifting his lashed towards me in a smolder. “I know a strong player when I see one and it would be a waste to let you wither just because you lost your way.”

I stutter. “W-what if I don’t get stronger?”

Kenma and Osamu were approaching us. Atsumu reached out to my head, ruffling my hair while saying “You know what’s nice about the sun? It’ll rise and it’ll set, but it’s beautiful either way.”

“Hey you fox! Get away from Shoyo!” As Kenma yelled to the wind, I touched the part Atsumu touched. Particles of sand slowly trickle from my hair like fairy dust. I remember his hand was rough and warm. I wanted to touch it.

The next day, I gently tugged at Kenma. “Kenma?” He mumbled in his sleep gradually waking one eye into wakefulness. “What is it Shoyo?” He yawns, draws a hand up to cushion the back of his head and smiles.

“I think I know now what I need to do.” I grip at the bed covers. “I want to play beach volleyball!”

After that trip, I made preparations through coach Ukai and coach Washijo to leave for Brazil. Training for beach volleyball wasn’t the only thing I did on the other side of the globe. I did part-time jobs as a delivery boy and a beach volleyball instructor. I toured around Rio getting as much feel of the sights and even dated around getting to know different hands and lips. However, I’d never forget my love for volleyball and, for some reason, I’d never forgot Miya Atsumu.

* * *

The air went dead silent.

 _‘Shit, I forgot that it’s only recently that Kageyama heard that Atsumu and I were going out. Did I just drop a bomb?’_ I look to Kenma who was speedily typing on his phone. In a split second my phone pings. I opened a message from Kenma. It read, “Nice one Shoyo! That’s how you tell your ex that you’re doing great without him!” I internally screamed. _‘Kenma! That’s not what I wanted!’_

“Then-“ Kageyama continued. “Would you want to catch up before you leave?” Kageyama’s face was still, but there was a languid sadness in his eyes. Our relationship may have ended mutually, but it never had the emotional resolution it needed. There was no better way to put a lid on it. It felt like I needed to do this. I needed to finally talk to him after so many years.

We sat down at an ice cream parlor with our respective sundaes. Kageyama was seated on a chair with crossed legs and crossed arms while I took a seat at the couch averting his eyes. “I wonder, were we ever this awkward?” I say aloud. I coaxed a smile from him and his tense body relaxes. He drops his hand to his sides and begins taking a scoop from his sundae. “Not before we broke up.”

“How are you Kageyama?” I start digging into my ice cream as well."

“I’m doing well, training for our upcoming game against you.”

I laugh. “Even after so many years, it’s still the rivalry keeping us alive here.”

“Why not with how long we put off killing each other?” He joked.

 _'Ah this is nice. The conversation is light and going smoothly.’_ We exchange stories about my adventures in Rio and his adventures during in the Olympics, the new things we like and dislike as well as the old and new people in our lives.

“How’s it like playing with Kourai and Ushijima?” I joke.

“They have their own strengths and weaknesses, but I have to say they’re not much of dumbass like you. ”

 _'What is this?’_ He blue eyes looked sad again and gazed over me like they were trying to burn my image into his memory. He sighed.

“Shoyo-“ Carefully, he reaches out and touches my hand and interlaces his finger with mine so naturally. “I miss you.” A part of me wanted to swat him away, break it off and run away, but there was something fragile with Kageyama that I just couldn’t bring myself to be harsh, even for Atsumu.

I close my eyes and avert his face. “Kageyama, what are you trying to do?” My hands still interlocked with his.

“I don’t know.” He props his chin with one hand and averts my direction as well. We both looked at a distance, not knowing how to proceed. No one ever writes guidelines for these specific cases, cases when you encounter your first love again.

“I would be lying if I didn’t say this feels nice. We always did hold hands back then.” I gently squeezed. The power of first love isn’t in the uninhibited discovery and exploration, but in the foothold of memories it leaves. It is your first and it is the purest form of affection as you find happiness in being and caring for another human whom you’ve found joy to be with. Memories of companionship, held hands, exchanged kisses and mischievous glances, will always be the strongest in these relationship because they burned first in the infantile psyche of your mind.

“I want to hold hands again. I want to be like what we were back then.” I wasn’t surprised. Maybe I was half-heartedly expecting it. I wasn’t the only one longing during those years. I turned towards his direction catching sight of Kageyama with a spreading blush. I smile kindly.

“I said this feels nice, but-“I gradually slip away from his cold grasp with little friction from his smooth and soft skin. “It isn’t right. I have Atsumu.”

In that instant, the pale unblemished hand that held me tightened into a grip on the table’s edge. I sigh. This time I reach for both his hands, making him turn his gaze directly to me. I clasp them together between mine and look gently into his eyes. They were turning glassy with droplets forming at the edges.

“I will always love you Kageyama. My feelings for you will never change. I won’t stop caring and won’t stop thinking of you. It’s just I now have found someone who I love more.” I smiled. His eyes widened and a tiny tear streak fell from his cheek. I was about to continue when-

“Shoyo!” Someone called out my name. That someone was Atsumu. Dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and light ripped jeans, Atsumu approached our table and grabbed me by the wrist breaking the hold I had on Kageyama. “Hi Tobio. Sorry, it’s getting late, but I’ll be bringing _my_ boyfriend back to the hotel now.” He said acidly.

Before I knew it, we were in the car driving along the main roads of Tokyo in silence. It all happened so fast that I had no idea how to make of it.

“No! I forgot to tell Kenma that I left already.”

“No need to.” I was confused and turned to Atsumu as he masterfully flips his phone open while keeping his eyes on the phone. The screen revealed a chat between him and Kenma. “Kenma was the one who told me what was going on.”

_‘Kenma…’_

“I have to say-“ He tilted his head. “No matter how many times I mentally prepared for that image, it still sucks seeing your boyfriend holding hands with his ex.”

I was breaking into a sweat while I was frozen in my seat. _‘What do I do? What do I tell him?’_ I thought it through, but no matter how many times I imagined how to comfort Atsumu, I just couldn’t do it. _‘I guess there really is a difference between knowing what to do and actually doing it.’_

“Shoyo-“ Atsumu mused. “Do you remember how we got together?” Immediately, with the short glimpses of light that the Tokyo streets could offer, Atsumu’s face turned red.

* * *

I passed the Black Jackals try outs and reported to the head office. Apparently, we were going to have our first trip out of town for the year. I was buzzing with excitement. It’s been three months since I started and I was finally going to see some action.

I bounced around the team cafeteria looking for Bokuto. “Senpai!” I called out from a distance after spotting a tuff of white and black hair. Bokuto turned and waved back gesturing me to sit with them. I was new and the thought of entering already established social circles was unnerving. The presence of familiar faces like Bokuto and Atsumu made it easier. _‘Yeah, especially Atsumu.’_

I skipped to their place.

“Oh you look really happy? What did you get a call from your girlfriend or something?” Bokuto joked.

“Nah!” I slipped into a seat in between Bokuto and Atsumu. “I just heard from head office that we’ll be having our first trip out of Osaka next month.”

“Oh! Aren’t you updated?”

“Of course! It’s going to be my debut game.” Though I’ve had several official games before, this was the first official professional game I’d have in Japan after quite a long time. It excited me.

“Oh, doesn’t seem like you’re nervous at all. That’s a first.” Atsumu mused cupping his chin with a hand. I turned to cocky mug of Atsumu. There was always electricity in the air when we stared into each other. I had to catch my breath.

“Nah, I just know a surefire way to cope with it.” I winked bringing out a pink-wrapped candy from my short pocket. I untwisted the wrapper and popped the taffy into my mouth.

“You sure are obsessed with that thing.” Atsumu mused. “You have a pop of that in the morning, before practice, after practice and after dinner. I’m surprised you aren’t diabetic yet at the rate you’re going.”

I nervously laugh. “I can’t help it. I’d get these awful nervous breakdowns before in my game. Kageyama saw them firsthand and popped this candy to bring me back to life. Ever since then, he made sure I had at least a piece of it before and after practice.”

“Wow, weren’t you babied by that guy?” Atsumu huffed. “Don’t expect any babying from me. I expect you to be at tip top shape for the game.” He sneered before standing up and leaving all of a sudden.

_‘I guess the thought of your wing spiker being that delicate could put any professional on edge.’_

The following week came and I was the first to wait peevishly at the lounge room. _‘Being an hour early really sucks.’_ Then again, I really couldn’t do anything about it because waiting anytime later would make my nerves even more excruciating to deal with. The cold sweat was getting to me and my heart was racing against my ribcage. Then, I remembered the candy.

At times like these, I would reach out in my bag for that pink taffy gum. While fumbling through my sports bag, I spotted the gum roll out of the zipper. It found its way by the doorway. I was about to stand to get it when the door slammed open sending the ball into a beautiful parabolic trajectory into the trash bin. I cried inside.

The one behind the incredible projectile slam was Atsumu. He was donning the team’s jacket hauling his duffel bag on his left shoulder looking irritated first thing in the morning. “Oh. What’s that reaction for?”

I pointed out the trash can and sighed. “It’s nothing. You just sent my gum all the way into the trash bin.”

“Oh, why don’t you fish it out?” He suggested as he took a seat right beside me.

I tried doing what he suggested, but, to my dismay, the candy was drenched in soda spilled in the bin. I couldn’t imagine putting anything that came from that wrapper in my mouth. That just seemed too sick. I threw it back in and placed a nice amount of alcohol on my hands to disinfect them. While rubbing my hands together, I return to my seat with Atsumu.

“Oi, where’s the candy?” I shook my head.

“Back in the bin where it belongs. It’s soaked with soda and it looked to disgusting to put even its contents in my mouth. Ew.” I stuck my tongue out in disgust.

“Well, it’s just candy. You can find plenty more on the road.”

“Maybe.” I scrunch up my fists against my lap.

“I’m sorry.” He said after noticing my expression.

I shook my head. “Nah don’t mind it. Thinking about it now, maybe it’s a bit childish to still hold on to that thing.” I ruffle the back of my head in embarrassment. _‘Really, who gets worked up over candy?’_

Minutes later, the rest of the team shows up and we start boarding the bus. Atsumu heads in first, taking the last row of seats on the left side of the bus. “Hinata!” He hollers waving me towards him.

“To make up for the candy incident, you can sit beside me.” He patted the seat next to him. The back seats were the best. They were slightly elevated and had plenty of leg room and privacy. I smirked.

“Thanks! To accomplish full payment, let me take the window seat.” I poked at him. He grunted, but gave way. Weirdly, the heat of his body could be felt even between the little space we had.

The travel time was set for another 6 hours. Everyone on the bus was fast asleep, even Atsumu. His head laid lazily against the headrest while his eyes were covered by a fox sleeping mask. _‘Who would have thought he was that type of guy._ ’ I joked to myself. It was terribly cold on the bus. I gripped my travel blanket closer, the wool and cotton rustling against my trembling frame. Unfortunately, my jitters weren’t warming up any time soon. _‘Maybe I can just indulge in the view for now. That might help me take my mind off of things.’_

It was 3 hours into the travel and I was still horribly awake. The experience of your body wanting to go to sleep, but your mind not being to quiet down was frustrating. I was grunting and rustling in between the blankets trying to fatigue myself to sleep until a callous hand grabbed mine under the blanket.

“What?” I blurted in surprise as the fingers of my hand trace towards my wrist keeping it in a gridlock. I slowly turned to the perpetrator- Atsumu- staring irritatedly from his lifted sleeping mask. He was shooting daggers at me with the few inches we had between us. _‘The heat emanating from him wasn’t so nice after all.’_

“What’s your problem? You’ve been moving around all over the place, grunting here and there.”

“Uh, it’s nothing.” He shot another dirty look at me.

“if it was really nothing, you would be asleep by now.” He threw the mask into his bag.

“I think I’m still a bit anxious, about the game you know.”

Atsumu placed his elbow on his knee and cupped his chin towards me. “It’s that candy, isn’t it? I fucked up with your ritual.”

I waved my hands in the air in total defense. “Oh no, no, no. I think it would be stupid of me to get worked up over candy. It’s just candy after all.”

Atsumu let out a sigh. “Hey, you sit tight here. I know what to do.” Atsumu stood up, quickly woobling through the moving bus to talk to the driver. In a few minutes, we were at a gas station. Through the passenger windows, you could see Atsumu’s stark tall body hurry into the convenience store and hurry back out with a white plastic. He quickly walked back to our seats. I furrowed my brows curiously, trying to figure out what he bought just from the shape of the plastic.

“Oi, scoot! You won’t know what’s inside until I open it.” He settles in and opens the plastic to reveal all kinds of canisters and packs of snacks and drinks, probably thinking that any kind of sugar rush could help me, but he reaches deeper into the plastic searching for something. The rustling gets louder until his finger sits still on the object of his desire. He brings out a piece of pink spherical taffy gum. He twists and turns the thing around examining it and concluding he was unimpressed. His deep russet eyes turned to me.

“Is that for me?” I beam joyfully. I take a hint and reach out for the candy, but before I could grab it, Atsumu quickly snatches it away within my grasping space. “Huh? What gives?”

“Hm. I just occurred to me how really important this is to you. I wonder if it’s really the candy or what it meant that’s important.” Atsumu turned to me this time waiting for an answer. “It’s because of him isn’t it?” My eyes widened.

“Uh.”

“Tch. Even until now, Tobio’s got you wrapped around his finger.”

This time I stiffened. Heat that I thought was nonexistent was rising in my body, leaving a physical redness on my ears. I couldn’t stop myself. Smack! In a split second, I slapped Atsumu’s face red making a wonderful slap resonate through the bus. I looked out towards the aisle to see if anyone woke up or if the driver noticed, but instead everyone was still deep into sleep or too busy at work. I angrily glance at the obscure face of Atsumu while he delicately touches the mark I left.

“Hmph!” I snorted as plopped back into my seat and turned away against him. I looked out at the dark expanse of the highway against the green rice fields. My eyes started to water at what he implied. It was something I least expected from him because he never at all mentioned about Kageyama before. Little did I expect that he had knowledge about what we were. Maybe that’s what got me the most, the fact that all this time, I was crushing on someone who already knew how broken I was. Tears trickled down my face. “You know this is worse than the nerves. First, I’m already jittery on my first game. Second, you projectile slam my only coping mechanism into the trash bin. Third, you bring up my last relationship with Kageyama. What’s up with-“

Before I could properly finish the rant, Atsumu turned my head away from the window pane giving me a full view of his flushed place. His cockish mug transformed into an abashed flustered face spreading the pink rouge from the mark to the rest of his face. His warm hands cupped the sides of my face perpetuating the warmth of his body unto me. But, I felt a part of me melt the most when his caramel eyes pierced into mine, searching for permission. I gave it, lifting my face up.

He dipped his lips into mine, slowly and gently as if he was cradling his delicate feelings until I understood why. Our lips touched and the supple warmth of two different bodies meshed in the inside. As our lips exchanged touches, he teasingly bit my lower lip asking permission to enter. As I let him, he didn’t just let his tongue in. With it came a small candy transferred from his mouth to mine. The sweet strawberry sugar surprised me, making me grip at Atsumu’s arm tighter and tighter until he was done tonguing in the ball into me.

Then, he broke away.

We panted for a while, both shocked at what we did. I wiped my mouth of sugar and saliva while chewing on the taffy gum. _‘Miya Atsumu, this is a whole different kind of crazy!’_ It was my turn to stare daggers at him. I was pissed.

“I knew.” Atsumu managed to say in between breaths. “Remember when we met at the beach in Osaka with Kenma and Osamu?”

I nodded.

“I already knew back then. Actually even before that, I knew that you two were an item.” He wiped the corner of his mouth. City lights illuminating his timid expression from time-to-time. “Like I said back then, I was always interested with you. You had something that I just couldn’t shake no matter how many-“

“Spikers you met.” I interjected.

“Lovers I met.” He meant. “I could never forget you.”

I raised my brows. _‘I wasn’t the only one.’_

“You know it’s weird though. We only interacted for such a short time and yet, I can’t stop thinking about you. I thought the whole thing was silly and threw it out on the side indulging in more practical relationships, but I always liked checking up on you.” His body leaned in a bit closer. His eyes nervously averted my gaze. “But you will always have Kageyama, huh?” He said in finality.

He was ruffling his hair now, almost apologetically.

_‘No.’_

He was moving back into his seat and looking down at the aisle this time.

_'Maybe.’_

He uttered the words, “You can forget about-“

_'Yes, this time.’_

I catapult my body into his sealing the collision with our lips. I whispered to Atsumu with tears steadily flowing down, “I always liked you too.”

Maybe this time, it’ll be different. What does the universe keep telling you when you can’t get your mind off of a person? What does it mean when someone lingers even after their chance encounter with you? What does it mean when they can have such a foothold of attention on you? Maybe it’s a crush. Maybe it’s solid admiration or respect. Maybe it’s attraction. No matter how your term it or reason against it, the fact of the matter is its continuous impact on you. Then, you wonder, “why?”

Maybe the better question is “why not?” Atsumu has put up with me for the last 3 months. He’s tolerated my early morning meditations, my tardy bad habits from Rio and even my horrible cooking. He’s indulged in my hyperactivity in practices, my fondness for the beaches and my love for rides with heights. But most of all, he gives me encouragement on my plays, sets expectations to reach higher and makes me feel cared for in more ways than I thought I wanted. I find it weird to like someone in such a short time, in between long spans of periods. It’s even weirder how very real the impact of that ‘like’ is.

That why, that’s something that can only be explored once engaging with. Maybe that’s what should happen between me and Atsumu.

Before I knew it, Atsumu cupped my face on both sides again, looking kindly into my eyes. “Shoyo, forget what I said-“

“But-“

He cut in. “Forget that you should ever have to forget your feelings for Kageyama. As hard as I might try to deny it, he is a part of you, but I hope I can convince you to choose me everyday over him.”

And we locked lips one last time. Our movements were more intentional and expertly than the past and our bodies were warmer than we hoped for. Our skins tinged with sweat and friction as we started to hold unto each other, with more knowledge and experience from others before.

 _‘Maybe this is what a soulmate is like.’_ Maybe a soulmate is someone made whole by their own experience so they may be whole with you.

“Hey Shoyo.”

“Hm.”

“Maybe this can be your new ritual.”

“Huh?”

“Candy with a bit of me this time.”

“When you mean a bit of you-“ I punched his shoulder “Atsumu!”

* * *

“What?” I reeled back into reality after Atsumu asked me about how we got together.

It was crazy! Atsumu was pulling me this time. He was dragging me out the car doors, through the hotel lobby and into the elevator. I kept calling out to him, “Atsumu! Hey Atsumu! What’s going on?” He wouldn’t respond and refused to look my way. Throwing me inside the elevator car, I grip into the gift of Shimizu and Tanaka as a sort of stress ball for the impact against the wall. “Ugh!”

The elevator door closes keeping the car to just the two of us. Angry, I was ready to barrage him with my two cents when he forcefully dipped his lips into mine. I drop the gift and try to grip at Atsumu’s shoulders, while battling against his kissing. His broad shoulder fenced around my smaller body bringing the weight of his head heavier on mine. At this point, I wasn’t backed up into the corner. I was leaning into it for support. I was panting. I can’t breathe. Flustered and in a panic, I used all the strength in my body to push him away.

Under the soft warm elevator lights, I saw the equally flushed face of Atsumu heaving for as much oxygen as I was. I turned away from him only to be stunted again by his embarrassed profile against the mirrored walls of the car. There was no escape. I was pissed.

“What was that for?”

Atsumu wiped his mouth trying to regain composure. “I-I heard it all.”

“Heard what?” I raised a brow.

“I heard your conversation with Tobio.” He tightened his fist. “I was actually in the shop with Kenma the moment Tobio grabbed your hand. I was about to charge at him when Kenma stopped me.”

_'If you really trust Shoyo and the love he has for you, you’ll let him take care of this on his own.”_

“So we sat from across the ice cream parlor listening in.” He paused. “The way you locked fingers like that, it irritated me at how natural it looked. You guys-“ He paused debating whether to say it or not. “ You looked good together. It took a lot of restraint and pulling on Kenma’s side to keep me down. I-I really thought I was going to lose you to Tobio tonight.”

I lifted my gaze to take a good look at him. Miya Atsumu was a prideful guy. He loved emanating how cool and levelheaded he was in any circumstance. Whether he was on court or among the fans, he always kept face and an image. Tonight was a different story. Tonight, Atsumu cried.

He was trying to hold it together. You could see his whole body tremble while heaving his shoulders up and down gasping for air and, maybe, control. His tanned skin was blushed with pink across his cheeks and on the edges of his eyes. His crumpled white tee was stained wet by tears dripping from his chin. He couldn’t look at me straight. Instead, he had his whole head turned to the ground as he frantically wiped tears left to right. He opened his mouth to try to croak something up, but no recognizable sound came up. Just sobs.

He didn’t make a single move or a single approach. No, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He just kept trying to compose and recompose himself in front of me. The scene was weirdly heart-rending. I felt a gentle warmth spread through my chest tendering my skin against the cool air of the car. It was my turn to have my cheeks flushed. _‘This guy. Seeing you so sad, weak and vulnerable just makes it even clearer about how much I love you and how much you love me.’_

“Atsumu-“ I was about to move forward.

“I was so happy Shoyo.”

I froze as he said, “I was so happy when you told Tobio that you loved me more.”

 _'Ah yes, of course he would be.’_ With that prideful remark, the atmosphere got a tiny bit lighter.

“I always knew that he was your first love. I always knew he was your first for everything- holding hands, hugs and kisses. Though you’ve broken apart, it doesn’t change the fact that he was a big part of who you are. I always knew that, Shoyo. I always knew that, maybe, you’d choose him over me.”

I couldn’t help but smile for a tiny bit. _‘This is why I love Atsumu.’_

I walked carefully towards him, grabbed a hold of his tear-stained hands and intertwined them with mine. I steadied him by solidly planting of my feet firmly on the ground. I coaxed him to look up at me.

“Yeah. You could say the universe made sure I was introduced to Kageyama. It destined us to be each other’s first love. Then again, if you look at it that way, I also had many other lovers after Kageyama.” Listing their number on my fingers, I count “…four, five, and six.” I smile.

_‘Yeah they were a lot.’_

I look up into his eyes hidden by his wet long lashes. “Yet, I chose you. Remember when we played beach volleyball for the first time? I never quite forgot what you said. You told me that whenever I found that feeling or attraction, that sense of being alive, I shouldn’t let it go. Not one bit. You told me there’s a reason why over millions of other sports and games out there in the world, I would fall in love with beach volleyball. Well-“ I gasped in as much oxygen as I could. “There must be a reason why out of all the lovers I’ve had, I just could never forget you! It’s not a coincidence Atsumu.”

“I made sure that I’d return to Japan and become a professional volleyball player. I purposely pushed to try out for the MSBY Black Jackals. Aside from the fact that it was the few teams with openings, it was also because it had the man who helped me find my path again”.

“Miya Atsumu, on the day of the try-outs, I saw you from the court grounds. If whatever you said in the past was true, then maybe it isn’t a coincidence that I felt so alive with you. Because of that maybe second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and, even, seventh loves are just as great and grand as the first.”

That’s when I knew that I had to kiss him. I tiptoed and leapt towards his trembling lips, feeling his widened eyes lull closed. Concentrating on our tongues slipping against each other and our fingers tracing one another’s lines, we were meshing into an orchestra of affection in a matter of seconds. Then, the elevator car rang open.

In a flurry, Atsumu grabbed my hand while I tried to grab the gift limp on the floor. He dragged me while panting furiously towards our hotel door. I tried to calm him down.

“Atsumu! Atsumu stop! You’re hurting me!” The heat of moments ago created sweat beads all over my body. We were finally at the end of the corridor, in front of our door. Atsumu still hasn’t responded to me and instead was having trouble fiddling the room key out of his pocket. Then, he darted his eyes on me. They were eyes of someone who would never get full.

“Do you really think I could hold back after everything you said back there?”

He cornered me again against the wall with one arm while the other finally pulled out the card key from his skinny jeans. He dipped his lips into mine. Then, we heard murmuring. I turned red and tried pushing him away, but, instead, got pulled by him as we slipped through the door.

It was dark. He didn’t even bother to turn on the lights. Instead, we left our senses to the touch. While lifting each other’s shirts off, we amble towards the bed letting my back land upon the plump sheets. Even between the pauses for gasps of air, we were still affectionately touching each other, allowing our fingers to trace every line, curve and scar. In spite of the sweat worked up, our bodies felt the warm friction between each other.

I was honestly enjoying it because this time I was moving with my lover with more experience than I had before. We’ve tasted different lips and touched different hands. Yet, in spite of all that, in spite of our own experience of blemishes and scars, we’ve chosen each other. That’s what I want to say to Atsumu. _‘You chose me as much as I chose you knowing all of these.’_ That’s why sometimes I think first love are great, but last loves are even better.

Our phone alarm rang _. ‘Oh no.’_ I turn my head towards the ceiling realizing we spent all night in the room. ‘ _Ugh! I’ll need to apologize to Shimizu and Tanaka for not having attended the program run through.’_ I could imagine Shimizu being forgiving, but Tanaka would be way out of the question. I’d better mentally prepare for a scolding. I reach for my phone at the side table and swipe it off and return my hands under the cozy refuge of the comforter, the comforter that Atsumu and I shared.

Atsumu lied on his back with one arm outstretched to kindly accommodate my tiny head while the other hung by the edge of the bed. I returned to his broad chest savoring and remembering the warmth of last night. I cuddled up a bit more letting my head fall in between the space of his chin and collarbone. It felt right. I wanted to cuddle up to him some more until my phone rang again.

 _'Darn alarm system that goes off every 5 minutes!’_ It couldn’t be helped. I was willing to apologize to Shimizu and Tanaka for not showing up through the run through, but not for missing their wedding.

“You know I still find it weird that among all the fine things you could get them, you’d choose a chopping board. It’s like you thought they couldn’t get something like that in any other department store. Kenma told me about it and how he was trying so hard to persuade to get something else.” Atsumu mumbled drowsily from under the covers.

“Hmmm, I guess you’re right in a way, but I knew they weren’t going to be willing to invest a lot in a chopping board. I think a lot of people take that thing for granted. I didn’t want to get something fragile like a glass or dining set. I didn’t want something too delicate that would make them uneasy to use in their everyday. However, I didn’t want thing that just served to be pretty like an ornamental vase.

I wanted something that would be simple, strong and resilient to the many years that it would be used to serve the Tanakas in their first home until their last home. A lot of people tend to overlook chopping boards opting for the plastic disposable ones in any commercial department store. Yet, in my house, my mom and dad were gifted a Kiso Japanese Cypress cutting board.”

Atsumu whistles. “That’s pretty expensive.”

“Yeah, but worth all the money. It’s not clean, smooth or as white as it was before, but It was always reliable against any of our whacks and chops. Sometimes I think all the lines, marks and dents we made on it made it even more beautiful. I want that for Shimizu and Tanaka.

You don’t have to cast away all your feelings for someone you loved in the past. You can take them, cherish them and bring them wherever you go. Many of us deny it, but we are a collection of feelings and memories we’ve received, processed and given from and to others. Sometimes we call that baggage, but, really, that’s just you slowly becoming your own person. Slowly, you find things that sting you harder than others and other things that touch your heart than most. You find out while stumbling through life leaving all kinds of blemishes and scars on you.

Before you know it, being naive, depressed, jealous and even damaged are just few of the many forms the accumulation of these marks make. We try to heal them and that’s fine. However, for the spots that can’t wash away, roughen up the skin and leave it hard, one day, you’ll find someone who will like that touch of yours, all friction included.

**EPILOGUE:**

Maybe it’s the aftertaste of the wedding, but I follow his little whims into the elevator car. We continue last night’s play of kisses until we reach our hotel room floor and make a run to our door like lovesick teenagers. We grab all our things, bags in one hand and each other’s hand in the other. I check us out at the counter while Atsumu brings the car upfront to the drop-off area.

A little fuzz of excitement ushers me quickly through the lobby, but not without catching sight of Suga meters away clasping his phone on one hand and gripping his hairs in the other. He looked defeated while slumped on a lobby armchair. The faint daylight revealed his red and swollen eyes. _‘Did he cry?’_

I just had to talk to him, but before I could a loud honking noise obstructs peace on the lobby grounds. Atsumu spots me deviating from his trajectory and gestures me to quickly get inside or else. He honks unapologetically again. I falter. He honks again. “Okay I get it!”

_‘I’ll ask Suga about it later.’_

I shove myself into the car mostly because I’m absolutely ashamed to be associated at all with a man willing to break the peace of a beautiful morning. “Atsumu just step on it already before they memorize our face!” I blurt.

He smirks throttling the engine to life and speeding through the Tokyo streets and into the highway. “Shoyo, goes to sleep. This will take a while.” I raise a brow. _‘You pull me into your plan, won’t tell me what it is and tell me to sleep my head off through the whole journey. Isn’t this a perfect kidnapping in the making?’_

But it’s Atsumu so I shrug off the suspicions and lean towards the radio to give me instruments to put me to sleep with. After twisting and turning the radio knob, I find an acoustic song anchored with soft drum beats and rhythmic raps. Feeling the music, I ready for the long nap leaving a peck on Atsumu’s proud face and holding his free hand with my own.

Hours later, I wake up finding the car parked as close to the beachfront as possible. Atsumu was outside the car, leaning on the road railing while looking into the pastel purple sky splashed with pale blue cloud and orange splotches of sunlight. Wanting to join him, I strip myself of my suit jacket, loosen the buttons of my dress shirt and fold up my sleeves. Though it was turning into evening, the summer warmth hoovered over the air. I step out and my hair ruffles at the touch the beach breeze. I stroll towards Atsumu stopping at his side and joining in his fond daydreaming.

“You know, you’re much more romantic than you let on.”

“Really? Am I know?” He teases.

“Bringing us here of all places.”

“Watching all the stories, toasts and exchanges in the wedding made me want to make sure how we did this was special.”

“How we did what?” I raised a brow.

Before I knew it, Atsumu lifted himself from the steel rail and knelt to the ground with one knee. ‘Oh my god!’ He pulls out a red velvet box and pops it open before me. Contrary to what I’d imagine, he presented me a simple steel ring while saying “Will you marry me?”

“On this beach where we first played beach volleyball? How could I even say no! Of course, I’ll marry you!” I leap up to him for a kiss. Atsumu spares no moment to take the silvery ring and show me what made it so special.

“I wanted something that would last forever. I wanted something that wouldn’t be an eye-catcher unless it was the two us looking at it. I wanted something that rang back to what you said.” Behind the front of the band were the engravings, “My last love.”

We dipped our lips into each other as Atsumu slipped the band on my finger making sure that we would never lock lips with anyone else like this.

“I love you Atsumu.”

* * *

Having only a few opportunities to actually request for leave, Atsumu and I decide to push our leave for a whole week so we could afford to spend more time on the Osaka beach while reminiscing on old beach volleyball days. Plus, we didn’t want to steal any thunder from Shimizu and Tanaka by announcing our engagement right after their wedding so we let them happily return from their honeymoon before announcing our engagement.

Our chat boxes blew up like crazy. I found replying to a flood of messages an anxiety-activating activity so I left Atsumu at his wits on coming up with the polite and prompt responses throughout the day. _‘It’s so nice to have a social media savvy fiancé to take care of all things internet.’_

I sunbathed on the front porch waiting for Atsumu to join me after finishing up the daily replies. I heard the trot of his footsteps. “Hey Atsumu! Join me already.” I said while patting down the white lounge chair I prepped beside me. However, he didn’t move and didn’t budge. I couldn’t make out his face under the darkness of his shadow and the tint of my lens.

He mouths, “It’s Daichi.”


	3. The Sound of Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when old actions come to bite back? The circle of life isn’t as simple as it seems. Suga finds himself answering to old flames he never gave a chance to, unraveling his own regrets and, of course, digging deep into things dead, gone and lost. Oikawa, on the other hand, has a messy nephew and even messier emotions. Maybe there’s a reason autumn is also called fall.

**The Sound of Fall**

**Suga**

I was walking under the balding canopies of withered trees while I braced myself for the hard blow of the wind ushering a new season. The gust sent my coat tail flipping over and my hair to completely blow towards the front. I curled into myself while hiding a bouquet of flowers under one side of my coat. Holding my right hand up, I defend my face from anything that could possibly smack my vision. _‘Just a little further.’_

I amble my way through the red-bricked road finding lesser people on the way. The path begins to bend going downtown. However, I deviate from the path taking a gray-stone staircase leading left, up the hill. Trudging against the bluster of winds assailing me from the left, I squint my eyes between steps, alternating between a world of vision and blackness. The force of the wind was extremely strong that you would never lose your sense of place based on the deafening whir and rustle of trees. The phenomenon, itself, was terrifying that I was forced to open my eyes to dissuade any supernatural fears.

Then, I saw Miyagi. The stone staircase was situated on a cliff side of the hill allowing every traveler to take full breath of the town. Buildings, homes and small shops lined in rows according to an incline creating a spectacular aerial painting of greens and oranges against the cold greys of metal and steel. The early morning sunlight further dipped the scenery into a soft golden filter. Magically, the wind calmed, as if it had whooshed over to simply call my attention. I smiled. 

Scrunch.

It was only then did I notice the small crackling sounds from beneath my boot. I looked down. Piles of blown autumn leaves laid crumpled against the stone. Scrunch. They have lived their days well and would spend their last moments away from their home, swooped up in a flurry and to shrivel in an unknown land. Scrunch. I walk again.

Scrunch.

They’re dead.

Scrunch.

Just like my love.

I continue my steps until I reach the top of the hill. I am greeted with an array of tombstones carefully lined against a steady incline, allowing even the dead to bask in the view. I walk down the slope this time, looking for the family name. I find the usual corner. The grave sat in the front and leftmost corner. I stop right in front of tomb stone that read “Daichi Sawamura. A good husband and a fallen hero in action.”

The memories flood back in.

On the day of Shimizu and Tanaka’s wedding, Daichi was called into an emergency operation. Daichi was a stellar officer and it was plain to see his superiors saw him instrumental in possibly bringing down one of the biggest drug cartel operations. We talked about it. Or, the more appropriate phrase would be fought about it.

Daichi, for all his wonderful sense of responsibility, was an overeager duty-bound officer. He could always opt to not join the operations, especially since he gave his notice of leave in advance. It would be an absolute waste of his leave to run back to work just to go gun-ho on this operation. I reasoned it out to him, but Daichi saw the necessary justice that needed to be fulfilled in the operation and he wanted to be a part of it. _‘Such a prideful man, really.’_

Before I knew it, Daichi left me in the morning leaving a note of apology that he would go with or without my permission. I cursed the wind. He left me going to Shimizu and Tanaka’s wedding alone. I was quite a sour puss that day, but what kept me alive was the thought that he would get an earful from me when he got back. That was the thing though.

Right after the send-off of the newlywed couple, I got an emergency call from one of Daichi’s colleagues.

“Sugawara-san?”

“Yes. This is Sugawara speaking.”

“…”

“Hello?”

“I’m police officer Fujiwara, a colleague of Sawamura in the drug cartel operation. Sugawara-san, I’m sorry, but Sawamura-san was killed in action. He caught a bullet to his spinal cord causing his body to automatically paralyze in the moment. We brought him to the hospital as soon as the scuffle with the drug cartel ended, but he was already gone by the time he was brought to the ER.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s been three years since Daichi passed away in action. I laid down the white carnations on his tombstone and lit an incense stick. Kneeling, I began to clap and send my prayers to Daichi. “I hate that you left me so early. Sometimes, you can be so unreliable Daichi.”

I left leaving my heart dead too.

The following week was going to be report card day. It would be the day that would end the semester and begin the Christmas break. It was really bittersweet for most kids as it released them from anymore academic responsibilities, but also let them to carry either honor or shame into what little vacation they had. It was a Saturday and I decided to come into the office just to get my grasp on how report card day would go. I needed to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for the dizzying roller coaster ride of hounding honor students as well as nosing of helicopter parents on Friday.

The day came and, honestly, things were hitting off better than I thought. Parents and students have been more amiable to the outcome of their grades as well as suggestions on my part towards what they could do to lift their scores. I crossed my arms and pointed my nose to the ceiling. “Seems like a wonderful time to be alive.” I laugh to myself. “You had nothing to worry about Koushi. You’re a great teacher. There’s no denying that.” I pat myself on the back for another dose of energy. It was a good thing the other teachers weren’t around in the faculty. Many of them left early to eat lunch.

I decided to stay in with a carefully prepared bento in my bag. I stroll towards my cubicle, plopping into the thin cushion of my office chair. I swivel happily towards my work station and open my notebook once more. There was one more student I needed to see before I could take my lunch.

Swoosh.

I turn my head to find a disgruntled young boy donning a black coat over a light-blue hoodie. I stand up quickly waving at him. He spots me immediately and turns away with a scowl only to be met with a pale palm planted solidly on his bald head. _‘Must be his parent.’_ I gesture the boy to come in to only have my eyes slightly widen at the appearance of grown man donning a white knitted sweater under a brown coat and black slacks with ankle high strapped boots.

_‘Nothing has changed.’_

His lip curled. It was Oikawa Tooru.

* * *

There are a lot of things we do in our lifetime. Not all of them good. Not all of them bad. But most are done due to certain circumstances.

It was Karasuno’s first game. Despite our falling reputation, Takeda-sensei did his best to secure a match with Aobajohsai. The third years and I were ecstatic. Of course, it goes without saying that we were just as nervous. Aobajohsai was a powerhouse with the famous setter and Grand King, Oikawa Tooru, on the team. At most, we wanted to win. At the very least, we wanted to put up one hell of a fight.

However, we never expected that most of our troubles would happen off the court. As soon as we arrived, we had to get Hinata sorted. Having thrown up on Tanaka out of motion sickness and nerves, Hinata was in the wrong mood for the game. Daichi and I had to quickly usher him to the bathroom. After calming Hinata down, it seemed clear that we could leave him to his own devices. Daichi and I thought of heading straight to the gym. “Seems like crisis averted.” I’d joke to Daichi. We strolled under Seijo’s open walkway eaves, alternating light and shadow between us. He’d smile. These were one of the many moments I treasured. With a rare mischievous look in his eye, he’d sneakily swing his hand in time with mine so our fingertips and knuckles would touch briefly, but longingly. Touching like this, no matter how fleeting, was pleasant. It would be better if we could do it often, but being the parents of the team called us to be mindful of how open affection could affect group dynamics.

Sometimes, I want to be greedier. _‘I really want to hold his hand.’_ Staring at the calloused palm, my eyes traced every line, curve, crevice and nook that I wanted to graze with mine. _‘It looks warm. It must be warm. I really want to-‘_ I was so consumed by the thought that I didn’t notice that Daichi had run off.

I caught sight of him from a corner, started chasing after him to only get the full breath of the situation as I got closer. I sighed. If it’s not one thing, then it’s another. We found Tanaka, Kageyama, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi about to start a brawl with two Seijo boys. I planted a palm on my forehead while looking into the heavens. Nothing like puke and a fight to start a practice match.

Given that, it was almost expected that we’d stumble and fall here and there, but not as much as Hinata did that day. The size of Seijo’s gym and the height of the ceiling gave way to a large viewing deck of Seijo students. It also magnified the squeaks and thumps of Hinata’s blunders and falls. In spite of being on the same team, I couldn’t help but laugh. Daichi was already sweating on the first set. His dark brown hair slowly glistened in between the light and his side burns carefully cradled tiny sweat beads that would trace the sharp curve of his chin. If I’m lucky, maybe a drop of sweat would do the honor of tracing the supple lines of his thin lips.

However, the reason that Daichi was sweating was less about the game and more about the team. His dark brows furrowed. Daichi was basically playing whack-a-mole between reassuring HInata, stopping Kageyama from killing Hinata and keeping everyone else in check. His baritone voice reverberating across the court between a quaint encouragement to a full on angry scream. I teasingly covered my mouth to hide how amusing I found it. The duality of this man to steal my heart and to make me cry from laughter is incredible.

 _‘Seriously, where does this guy get the energy to care so much?’_ I wiped a tear from my eye.

I kept watching. “Ah so it’s come to this.” Seijo was at set point, but Daichi wasn’t deterred by that at all. With his black eyes he raved everyone to focus on getting back points. “Yosh!” They all answered. He beamed at his command of the court and looked resolutely at our opponents on the other side. _‘Don’t get over confident.’_ I tried to get his attention. He spotted me from the side as I pointed to his back gesturing him to take a look. I laughed hugging my stomach with as much control as I could muster. I love teasing him. Instantly, his tanned energetic face went pale as he saw the next server in line.

Hinata.

Hands full with the ball, Hinata trembled while taking slow steps towards the end of the court. He was still getting to grips with playing volleyball. I check back at Daichi. He sighed and retrieved his smile from a while ago. Looking unto me, he winked _‘We’ll be fine.’_

Until this day, I never told anyone how that wink made me blush. My body instantly perked up as I frantically cupped my cheeks in hopes that the rising heat from my face wouldn’t produce a faint blush. I averted my face from court. Only one person knew what that wink meant to me. That was Shimizu. She was the only person who saw how red I became behind the court.

I gestured her to keep it a secret with a single press of the side of my pointer finger to my lips. _‘At least it was Shimizu of all people.’_

The game went on and after Hinata’s final blow- hitting a clean spike into the back of Kageyama’s head- Karasuno fell back into its normal rhythm. We lost one set, but we won the second one. On the third set, it seemed our victory was promised. We were at set point when the gym door flung open. I was only terribly focused on Daichi that it took me a moment to process the cause of girly squeals. Dressed in a white Seijo jacket and volleyball jersey was a young man with light brown hair that was smoothly blown back to the sides and a fair complexion that was incompatible to that of an athlete’s. His eyes examined our players on the court and on the sides. I felt the gaze of his auburn eyes as they instantly passed off judgements from one person to the next, especially when they were on me. I pierced him back with my own ash gaze causing him to immediately lift his eyes away. _‘I win this time.’_ I do a small fist pump in the air.

Crossing my arms, I eyed him again. _‘That must be the Grand King.’_ He immediately entered the court after his warm-ups and made a cocky smile. He was taller than the average player and he didn’t let his bulk slack because of his height. His thighs swelled from the point of his knee joint and dipped down to a nether region below his pelvis. His arms had equally small swells on the side of his shoulder and biceps.

Also, he was up to serve. Everyone was waiting like the whole gym was holding its breath. Then, he took a step forward. The Grand King threw the ball and leapt into the air twisting his arm to accomplish a full smack unto the ball. My eyes widened. For a moment, the ball paused in the air as if absorbing the onslaught of force vibrating into its surface. A second later, the ball spiked exactly into Tsuki’s arms, ricocheting frantically unto the viewing deck. I had to do a double take on Tsuki to see he had both arms intact. The impact of the ball made such an audible snap that you wouldn’t wish anyone to receive it. Once I was sure Tsuki’s arms were okay, I refocused back unto the Grand King. His smirk got even wider.

Prepped with another volleyball in hand, he waited for the referee’s signal and performed the jump serve again. _‘No way!’_ He targeted at exactly the same place and the same person- Tsuki. “He has unbelievable power and control over the ball.” I whispered to myself. Though, it almost seemed he could hear me as he lifted his gaze unto mine, intent on maintaining my attention.

_‘Is this payback for a while ago? No way would he be this petty.’_

But that’s the thing, he was. He spun the ball between his hands while awaiting the whistle. I couldn’t help but keep my gaze on him too. You can call it pride, but I just couldn’t let him have even the slightest victory over us, over me. I gripped my fist in to a ball and stiffened my body and pierced back at him determinedly. _‘You are not getting the best of me Oikawa.’_ That’s the thing though. It felt like he did.

The referee whistled. He kept his auburn eyes on me when he threw the ball into the air and jumped. He wasn’t only in full control of the ball. He was in full control of his body, memorizing the time and space each limb needed to perform an action perfectly. His eyes still on me and mine were on him. He smiled spiking the serve into Tsuki, but this time Tsuki receives it. He breaks from our staring match.

I smile pumping my fist into the air for a second time. _‘I win again!’_

I hear a laugh. The Grand King receives the ball letting the first years set up to spike. Hinata and the other blockers appear giving a soft touch to the ball’s impact. Kageyama sets and, before you know it, the freak quick strikes giving the set to Karasuno.

I couldn’t help but smile gleefully and cheer the guys on from the sides as it happened. It was an awfully special day.

With that, the team lined up in front of Takeda-sensei. He looked frazzled, unsure of what to do. I whispered to him, “A few words of wisdom sir.” His eyes widened and his lips curled into a smile as he understood.

He said “Well… I don’t know much about volleyball. But I do know that something very special is going on here.”

My eyes widened.

“Some great first years have joined us this year. I know things didn’t go smoothly at first. But today I know one thing. We don’t amount to much on our own. But together, we can affect each other.”

My heart stirred.

“People meet, and that moment can result in a change in the world itself. It could happen in a faraway country, somewhere at the edge of the world, even in the north of a far eastern island nation or in a simple town high school volleyball club.”

My gaze lifted on Daichi. His eyes still intently on Takeda-sensei.

“That miracle occurred here in Karasuno. I’m not qualified to say this, but believe me, I think you’re going to grow stronger and stronger.”

I shifted my gaze to Takeda- sensei. When you find words that move you, you sometimes think _‘I want to be able to say those words too.’_ That was when I knew it was a truly special day.

After saying our thanks to Seijo for the game, we started walking towards the team van. It was late into the afternoon and the sun painted the place in sweet and soft orange. I walked beside Daichi. In these circumstances, we knew we couldn’t touch while everyone else was around us. That was fine. His presence alone was enough. _‘Maybe in the van we could-‘_

My track of thought completely gets cut when the Grand King Oikawa appears before us at the school gate. He looks smug even if his team lost. Leaning against the brick pillar with arms folded across his chest, he basks himself in the afternoon sunlight lifting his head upwards with heavy lidded eyes. _‘How dramatic.’_

“Hm.” He turns himself towards us. His eyes on me again, greeting with a smirk that said _‘This isn’t the last time you’ll be seeing me.’_ He moves his gaze to the others. “Your receives are weak. You better work on them if you’re want to qualify at the Inter-High Preliminaries. After all-“He paces towards Kageyama and sticks a finger towards him. “I’m planning to wipe the floor with my protégé here.”

_‘Who is this guy?’_

He smiles again and begins to walk back to their gym. I don’t think he ever gave me a second look.

On the way home, I cup my head with both hands while my lips pursed into a pout. We were on a ride back home and, unfortunately, Daichi being Daichi found it better if he sat beside Hinata so he could better react to any of his motion sickness. “Hmph!” I was sure Daichi could feel my annoyance in the air. I folded my arms in utter disapproval of his decision and looked far into the distance. _‘Let’s just go home faster.’_

“Uh Suga.”

I didn’t want to notice the call.

“Suga.”

I was adamant that I wouldn’t mind him.

“Suga.” A finger tapped my shoulder. I turned my head readying a bluster of my thoughts when the person seated behind me was Shimizu. Her poker face betraying a slight confusion to the reaction I gave.

“Uh. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s fine. Sorry to bother you, but I think you should know that the captain of Seijo approached me.”

My ears perked up. _‘The Grand King. Don’t tell me harassed Shimizu!’_

I quickly turned my body towards her and clasped her hands. “Did he do anything to you Shimizu?”

Her face gawked at me. “No Suga. Oikawa asked if he could have your number.” I raise a brow, being the one confused this time. “Sorry Suga, I told him he could only have it if he had your permission, but he was too persistent. I felt I should warn you in case he makes contact”

In a flat tone, I said, “Thank you, Shimizu.”

I instantly let go of Shimizu’s hands, turned my body forward and placed a palm on my forehead hoping it would help contain the irritation. _‘That’s another guy I’m annoyed at too. Such a petty guy! He started the staring match and now he’s hounding me for it. Tch! Don’t start something you can’t finish and, most likely, can’t win!’_

Kageyama was right. He really has a bad attitude.

_‘This just makes me want to go home faster!’_

Finally, Takeda- sensei drops us off at school. Most of the volleyball team walked home together making fun banter and noise as we went along the neighborhood. Slowly as we went deeper through our regular route, more and more of the team members departed and so did their noise until it was only the sound of two pairs of footsteps hitting the pavement that echoed through the night. I smiled. All of a sudden every hum was deafening.

The night breeze blew timidly, making its presence known in the rustle of its leaves above us. We could hear the small clatter of stray cats still scavenging for food in a corner we passed. We could hear the thick brushing of our sports jackets as fabric rustled against fabric. But, most of all, we could hear the steady breath of one another, ever so slightly getting quicker as the small space between us became smaller. Bit by bit, the beat of our steps grew slower and the sound of rustling fabric grew louder. Our hands touched each other, briefly at first, longingly at second and tightly at the third swing of our arms.

Hands don’t make a clapping sound when they hold each other gently. They don’t make a sound at all. Only with silence and much attention would you notice the faint grazing of the skin, the soft tap of the fingertips and slight pump into the air once one palm has locked deeply into another. It was as if I heard my whole body hum.

Daichi’s hand was rough and calloused at certain edges. It was also bigger than mine. His palm easily clasped the expanse of mine, whereas my hand struggled to reach as much skin as it could. Nonetheless, our fingers fit into each other and that’s all that really matters. The touch warmed me inside.

We walked quietly through the same route we always did. With every step, I inched a tad bit closer to Daichi, letting my head gradually rest upon his shoulder as I encapsulated his arm into my chest. In return, Daichi would gently let go of my hand and slide it carefully towards the side of my waist pulling me boldly closer to him. In doing so, I’d gently respond back by snuggling the side of my face in between the crevice of his chin and chest. No words were needed. There was only the low rustling of fabric, the grazing of skin, the quickening of breath and, for me, Daichi’s racing heart beat that was playing in the background. This was how we both said, “I love you.”

Then, we took that pivotal turn. 

A street before we separated ways, Daichi and I would opt to take a right turn to a dark, secluded alley found between residences. We’d walk into it to only come to a full stop in between its length. That was the place we could freely be in love.

I would willingly lean unto a wall lifting my gaze unto Daichi who had a gentle smile on his face. His burly arms surrounded me on both sides. _‘As if you even need to corner me like this.’_ He bends ever so slightly towards me and looks into my eye searching for permission. _‘Daichi, you really are too nice.’_ I smirk. “Don’t just smile there.” I grab the collar of his jersey jacket with both hands and bring him closer to me as I turn my head. “Kiss me.” He plummets his mouth in mine and the silence of the night are replaced with the slightly wet smooch of our lips.

He slid his arms down my waist, bringing me closer to him and allowing him access under my shirt. I shivered making me break away from his lips to muffle a whimper. Meanwhile, Daichi continued peppering me with kisses from my eyes, cheek and neck. I smiled as he continued to snuggle himself on my neck, somewhat tempted to leave a mark of his own. Alas, this is Daichi and the mark he would only make is the one only the both of us would know.

I drape my arms around his neck as he continues to explore the arch of my back. The pale moon illuminated only faint outlines of our faces. However, my ash eyes had his face completely memorized. With only a few highlights, I could tell when he would crinkle his lips; when he’d faintly squint his eyes; and when he’d take a large gulp just before he dipped his lips into mine once more. I break away from the supple touch. I hold unto his neck, having one hand nested against his dark hair, while I rested my head on his shoulder. Daichi nibbled unto my ear until the only sound I could here was the smacker of his lips. The motion made me slightly tear at edges of my eyes. I pressed my lips together to muster as much control as I could for what I thought to be an onslaught of more forceful kisses.

“Suga?” Daichi whispered, breaking away from my reddened ear and taking full view of my weakened face- eyes glassy, lips trembling and cheeks blushing red.

He smiled. “It’s getting late. We should get going.”

His hands slid down from my bare back and returned to its place behind the fabric of my jersey, but still supporting my limp state. My brows furrowed as I set my mouth into a scowl. The motion upset me as I was in such a mood. I slip my hands from his neck unto his chest giving way for distance between our faces.

“Daichi!”

“Come on!” He smiled again cupping one side of my face with one of his hands. It felt so warm. “After all, we need some leeway for your skin to calm down. You’re blushing like a bride.” He joked at me.

“Whatever!” The poke just made me even redder. I give him a side glance, seeing the apologetic gaze in his eyes. I released a tired breath. “Fine, let’s go.” I yield.

As soon as I got home, I went into my room to freshen up. The team antics, the Seijo practice match, the mental staring match and the usual walk through the alley thoroughly tired me out. _‘A warm bath should do.’_

Slightly slick, fully clothed and completely revived, I step out of the bathroom. “Nothing like a good shower to lift the body back up.” I plop down unto my mattress letting my bum enjoy the cushion when all of a sudden my phone rang. I reached for my side table and saw a message from an unknown number. _‘Could this be Oikawa?’_ I opened the message. It read, “Hey congratulations on winning the match!”

I texted back, “Thank you, but this should really go to the team. I was just on the sides anyway.”

My phone pinged again. “I meant our staring match. You have spectacular grey eyes, you know.”

I was taken aback. I didn’t know what to answer with that. All of a sudden, the typing dots appeared on the screen until a message appeared. “Mind, if we could schedule a date for a rematch?”

I messaged, “Rematch?”

“Yes. You, me and lunch this weekend.”

My brows furrowed. _‘What is this guy playing at?’_ Before I could type anything else, the door swung open. “Koushi!” My mom called to me as she entered my room. I dropped the phone unto the bed as I met her at the doorway.

“Mom! How many times do I have to tell you to knock?”

She smirked. “Please, there’s nothing my little boy needs to hide.” She said pinching my cheeks. “Oh! By the way, a friend of yours came by. He wanted to drop this off saying that you left it in the classroom.” She handed me a sheet of paper with the words “Career Counseling” on the header. I gulped.

“Thanks mom! I’ll be sure to thank him next week.” I instantly reassure her, ushering her out of the room in the process. Click. Once alone, I went over my desk, turned on my study lamp and took a seat. The white paper gleamed brightly against the light.

Today is a special day.

I turned my back one more time as I heard the ping of my phone again. I looked thoughtfully on the lighted screen of the mobile before I let out a sigh. I returned to my desk, grabbed a pen from my canister and started jotting away.

_‘Right now, I am certain of two things. First, I want to be a teacher who can touch the lives of their students just as well as Takeda-sensei. Second, I don’t just want to be Daichi’s boyfriend anymore.’_

I placed the pen down and took the sheet with both hands against the light. I smiled proudly at my work. With that, I walked back to my bed, picked up my phone, deleted the conversation and blocked the number.

I plopped my back into the bed, happy that I already know what my future would be like.

_‘I want to be Daichi’s husband.’_

* * *

It was quite an awkward position to find yourself in the presence of a familiar face, especially if that familiar face was that of a person you ghosted years ago. The three of us were seated side-by-side to each other in front of my desk. I took a deep breath. “Please excuse me for a moment.” I swiveled away, fumbling amongst my folders for Takeru’s files and papers.

With the comfort of my back towards them, I couldn’t help but race through all the assumptions in my head. _‘Takeru isn’t an Oikawa, but for Oikawa to be here it must mean they are related or, at the very least, closely associated.’_ While in deep thought, I pressed my finger unto my chin. _‘I guess that could be our icebreaker to dissipate the unexpected tense atmosphere.’_

Whether I was facing him or not, I could feel the penetrating auburn stare against my back. It almost made me want to curl deeper into myself. However, I took a side glance at the young boy on the other side. Takeru was a young scrawny boy with more energy than hair on top of his head. Regardless, he was bright and promising boy with great social skills. As his teacher, I had to put it upon myself to identify and resolve the issue of his failing performance. The altercation with Oikawa was absolutely secondary to Takeru’s academic and social welfare. I mentally hyped myself up once more before facing the beast.

I turned, flashing the kindest smile I could muster.

“Good morning Oikawa-san and Takeru-kun.” Neither responded.

“Thank you again for coming here! Before I begin, I would just like to ask one thing.” I teased. “How are you related to one another?” I wagged my finger back and forth between them.

“I’m Takeru’s uncle.” The playful tone of Oikawa came out. “His parents aren’t available for the appointment so I’m substituting for them” He smirks hiding his lengths of passive aggression under his next line. “Don’t you think I’m such an awesome guy Suga-chan?” My eyes widened.

“Su-suga-chan? Sensei, do you know my uncle?” Takeru asks alarmed at the honorifics.

I put my hands up waving in defense. “Uh, we met in high school.”

“Uhu, Suga-chan and I are the bestest of friends! In fact, we’re so close that it’s so forgivable to not answer one another’s text or calls for years!”

And shit hits the fan. I froze, taking one more look at his placidly cool and easy-going demeanor. I didn’t know what was more amazing, the fact that he remembered me ghosting him years ago or the fact that he kept that grudge until today. Sweat beads started falling from the back of my head. The situation needed to be diverted before I was further stabbed by Oikawa’s pokes.

I laugh it off. “Yes, it’s been years. Now that we’ve cleared that up, I’d like to go to the reason why the three of us are here to meet.” I hand a sheet of paper to Oikawa and, then, to Takeru. “You see we always keep our students under careful observation and many of the teachers have given a concern to Takeru’s performance this past semester.”

I turn my full attention to Takeru. It’s never easy for a child to be told that they’re not doing well enough. All you want to do at that age is live your life, make friends and have fun, but then, society has its institutionalized systems that would leave kids like Takeru in the dust if we didn’t prepare him for it. The young buy was gripping at the fabric of his pants, wrought in guilt. I reached out. Carefully and tenderly, I touched his hands. Receiving his gaze, I gave him a small nod and smile. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Hm, he’s absolutely right Takeru-chan.” Oikawa dramatically throws the paper unto my desk before catching my attention with his crossed arms. “After all, it’s the school’s job to make sure you’re performing well. The fact you aren’t must mean one thing-“He lifts his lidded eyes and points at me. “Suga-chan here must be lacking as your teacher.”

In all my years as a teacher, no, as a human being in fact, I have never ever thought I’d experience a remark as rude as that.

His eyes challenged me, waiting for me to retort. He retrieved his hand again to cup his chin. “Hey Suga-chan, don’t you think Takeru is a bright boy, smart, caring and respectful? Why do you think such a promising fellow would be performing so poorly, huh?”

His eyes crinkle a little. “Did you perhaps think that it had to do with a problem at home?”

_‘He got me there.’_

“Tch. All you teachers are all alike. Whether young or old, you all think everyone should be able to execute things properly and that those who fall behind are natural laggards.” He throws his hands up in the air. “Maybe your bunch has never thought that problem has been with the institution and system!” He smirks once more and eyes me with livid expectation forcing unto me the opportunity to respond.

I didn’t.

His lip curls tighter. “Hey Suga-chan, I just asked you a question.” He pokes me. “Don’t ghost me on this too?”

_‘He hit a nerve.’_

With an audible smack, I solidly planted my palms on my lap and directly faced Oikawa with a thinly veiled smile. “Oikawa-san-“

I tilt my head to the side, smiling and eyes seeping with irrepressible intensity. “You are right Oikawa-san.” He freezes at the validation.

My shoulder drop back. “But only partly.” I look at Takeru and place a hand on his arm. The boy looked up at me with glassy eyes and a sheepish demeanor. “Trust me when I say we’re doing the best that we can to nurture and help you grow. However, learning is a two-track line. I need you to work with me Takeru-kun.” I crow my neck towards him. “Let me know where you’re having difficulty, what you can’t understand and if you need me to slow down.” I smile kindly at the boy.

“Tch! All of this could be avoided if you were good to begin with.”

I snap my neck back at Oikawa, twitching my deeply creased brows. “Or maybe if he had a better role model.” I poke back.

“Excuse me! I knew it! You were snuffing out if Takeru was having problems at home.” He puts his hands up in the air. “Well, for your information, Takeru lives in a happy family with an awesome uncle.”

“You aren’t Takeru. How would you know how he feels?” I turn my nose away from him.

Oikawa stands, readying his finger to point me out as the culprit once more when the faculty door thudded open.

I turned my back and found an empty seat where Takeru once was.

_‘No.’_

I quickly walk out to the corridor with Oikawa hot on my heels. We spotted the young boy run past a friend, disappearing into a corner. _‘What have I done?’_ I snap my head to Oikawa freezing him into place with my ash eyes. _‘No matter what, this is secondary to Takeru.”_ I narrow them further into his pupils and immediately grab the sleeve of his coat.

“Please-“

“He-hey! What are you doing?” He fidgets his arm up and down. It only manages to make me pinch the fabric tighter.

I bow my head. “Please help me find Takeru.”

He nods compliantly, silently afraid of my reaction if he didn’t. So we part ways.

I sped towards the boy Takeru bumped into, while Oikawa ran the other way to see if he could catch Takeru before he got anymore reckless. I caught up with the student and tapped his shoulder. I took a few deep breaths before I could compose myself again, flashing a kind smile.

“He-Hello Kaeda-kun!”

“Se-Sensei? Yes! Are you alright?”

_‘It’s been a while since the last time I worked out.’_

I wave off the student’s concern. “Oh yes, I’m just-“I take another few breaths in between. “Catching my breath.” I smile. “Uh Kaeda-kun, would you happen to know where Takeru-kun ran off to?” I pant once more.

The boy furrowed his brows in deep concern, averting my eyes. That was when I caught on. I place a gentle hand on his shoulder and poised a pleading look.

“Kaeda-kun, do you know something?” I coax him to trust me. “Please, I want to help Takeru-kun.” The boy perks up and resigns a sigh that begins our exchange.

I walk slowly through the courtyard having to digest the new information given to me. Whir. The fall wind blows harder, scattering a new batch of maple leaves unto the courtyard. Only clad in a light sweater and cardigan, I bask in the November gale. I take a deep breath and look into the pale grey sky searching and wondering. _‘What would Daichi do?’_

I saunter slowly into the school courtyard carefully eyeing my surroundings for any other students and teachers. None. I continue walking to the building on the other side, knowing I’d encounter no soul. The thought swells in my head. _‘What would Daichi do?’_

That’s the thing about death. It’s been 3 years since Daichi passed away. Like every widower, you get on with your life because the world doesn’t stop for anyone. You pull yourself together and maybe even welcome the usual, the work and the grind because it helps you forget. That’s the very interesting thing about the human brain. It unconsciously helps you cope. One thing led to another and before I knew it, it’s been 3 years. However, it doesn’t mean I still couldn’t feel the impact of the blow. I cry.

Grief hits like an unpredictable and emotional shotgun. Once you’re hit, you go down and would have to invest your energy to healing the bullet wound. I sob a little louder. That’s the thing. No matter how much you tend to the injury though, you know you’ll just get shot at again anyway. Maybe it’s the week after. Maybe it’s the next month. Maybe it’s the next year. Nonetheless, you get shot because the fact of the matter is that we don’t move on from death.

We move forward _with_ it.

If there’s one thing I’m thankful for, that’s my job. Even after Daichi’s passing, I still love teaching kids. It’s what you would call my saving grace in the bouts of my emotional turmoil. However, I guess my grief-stricken tunnel vision is just as dangerous as it is dedicated. Sometimes it gets to me when I see myself failing at my work because it’s all I have now. I gradually lift my hands staring at the soft pale skin and the lines that trace its bends and curves. I pummel my face into it hoping it would muffle the sobs and calm myself down. It didn’t.

Before I could let out another cry, I hear the rustle of maple leaves on the ground. Scrunch. I dig my head deeper into my hands, embarrassed at the thought of a stranger having to witness my thralls of emotions. _‘I’m disgusting. Here I am a teacher, one of the pillars of education and character, and yet I’m crying like a child.’_ I steady my breathing and try to wipe the snot unto my hands before I’d have to answer the inquiry of any curious student scrunching by. I lift my head. Whoosh. Instead, I meet a dark brown fabric draped over my head and hear a panting figure.

“Ugh!” He grunts as he takes a seat by my side. “You know, if you were going to take your sweet time, you could have told me so I wouldn’t have been running and dashing throughout the whole place.” I could only hear what seemed like the rustling of heavy fabric. He was most probably pulling on his sweater trying to tug at the neckline to let more wind bluster in his clothes. I smile under the darkness of his coat.

“Oikawa-san.” He has a bad attitude, but he seems to care. “Thank you.” I let out that last cry while he places a warm hand against my back. The sound of his grazing skin comforts me.

“None of this is your fault. It’s on me. I’m an asshole.”

I turn my still coat-draped face towards him and laugh. “I’m so happy to know you’re smart enough to figure out what a horrible person you are.” I point at myself. “You even made a grown man cry.” I couldn’t see it, but I heard the ruffle of fabric against the stone bench. He froze in guilt. I laugh once more, taking pity on the guy’s soul. I wave it off and heaved a sigh. I turn forward again letting myself bask in the sanctuary of darkness Oikawa draped over me. “Takeru-“

I take deep breath to steady my tone. “Takeru is heartbroken.”

I flashback at the moment that Kaeda-kun and I talked. Inside the silent corridor with no one else around. He told me Takeru’s story.

“Sensei, I thought you knew.” The boy was a bit averted in revealing personal information, but I let out a gentle smile signaling him to trust me.

“Kaeda-kun, what is it?”

“For a really long time, Takeru has really liked Reina-chan.” My eyes widen at the revelation. Reina-chan. “You could say they were each other’s childhood sweethearts, but-“The boy trailed off looking towards the windows the lined the corridor. He darted his eyes back to me. “Reina moved away. Without a single word or warning, she left Takeru.”

I still flinch a bit inside when I recall how Kaeda told the story. “How could you leave someone you love just like that?” I turn to Oikawa.

“You tell me. How could you ghost someone off the bat?”

I freeze earning a hearty laugh from my seatmate. I was still under the cover of his coat, but by the maniacal sound of his voice. He seemed satisfied at the reaction he got. _‘Ugh, he isn’t going to let me live this down quietly. Better close this door already.’_

I take off the coat drape, confident that my face seems a tad bit better than before. “Oikawa-san.” I call his attention. His auburn pupils enlarged taking the full breath of my state. My eyes were probably still puffy and pink like my nose. Nonetheless, an apology should be done properly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reply to you back then many years ago. I realized I may have been improper and disrespectful towards your feelings.” I take a small bow allowing my eyes to face the aggregated stone on the bench instead.

“Hm.” He coos. “I don’t think an apology is very satisfying. Don’t you think I deserve an explanation Suga-chan?”

Still keeping my head down, I obscure a scowl on my face. _‘This guy is such a power tripper.’_ I take a deep breath before lifting my head and staring into his expectant gaze. “I’m sorry. At the time, I was already in love with someone else and-“Both my eyes and my voice trailed off glancing to my side.

“So you thought it would be better to completely block off an overly friendly guy to avoid any misunderstandings.” He said it like a fact, not a question.

I smiled timidly curling into myself over the guilt. Thankfully, Oikawa waves it off with a hand. “It’s alright. Maybe it wouldn’t amount to anything anyway since you were so in love with someone else. To put it simply, I was just curious.”

My lip curled a bit higher at his effort to put me at ease. “Hey Oikawa-san, what will we do about Takeru? I don’t think I could give him sound advice about his broken heart.”

“Oh? Why have you never been heartbroken?” Oikawa raises a brow and I nod. He flinches back with a look of surprise. “What? Don’t tell me the guys you were so in love with was your first love?” I nod again. He throws his arms up into the sky. “Ugh! I guess you’re one of the lucky one, huh?”

_‘If only he knew.’_

I poke back at him. “Why Oikawa-san? Have you had your heart broken into tiny little pieces?” I tease back with a mischievous smirk. My eyes widen at the cold and solitary mood of his face. He turns away from me looking into the distance while keeping his arms crossed over his chest. Or maybe making sure to keep a tight hold on his chest.

“Yeah, but not in the same way.”

**Oikawa**

Sunlight was seeping through the curtains as I woke from my first morning since my arrival from Argentina. I stayed in my bedroom in my old house. It reeked nostalgia. It was small for a grown man, but cozy for a boy who’s been far from home for too long. I muffled a yawn with my hand and stretched out my arms over my head. I looked out into the window. The view was partly blocked by branches of maple trees that stood at the front of the house. I didn’t mind though. I always preferred nature over people and the maple leaves looked divine with its newly painted golden crown.

I fall back into bed, plopping and curling myself into a ball. _‘Doesn’t seem like I have much to do.’_ I snug my nose against my pillow. I reach for my phone on the side table and begin scrolling through my newsfeed. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I saw posts from Matsukawa going on a beach vacation with his officemates. “Look at him partying hard all night.” I slide my finger from the bottom to the top eyeing the rich orange sunsets, the glitter of the beach party lights and the wide-angled feasts gorged upon on the table. I smiled. _‘He’s living the life.’_

I tap my finger on the search bar and start typing Hanamaki’s name. Search results appeared and I tapped at the first profile. Hanamaki’s latest post revealed his wedding with one of our schoolmates who had a long-time crush on him. His profile picture was the image of him standing arm-in-arm with his blushing bride before the altar. His hair had grown and was slicked back. He fashioned a light grey pin-striped suit with a white long sleeve tightened on his torso by a satin purple vest. Beside him was a dark-haired woman with a long face, gentle down-turned eyes and fair complexion. Her body leaned gently unto Hanamaki’s accentuating the arch of her back and subtly sensual form of her white laced mermaid dress. _‘She used to be our class president.’_ Yet, she looked terribly ravishing with the gleam of her green pupils lidded against her light grey eye shadow showing the camera terribly mysterious side. I blow into a whistle. “Hanamaki married a hot one.” I laugh while wiping a tear on the side.

“It’s too bad that I never got to go.” I recall what I was so busy doing years ago.

I left Japan 3 years ago to train in Argentina. It was an unlikable circumstance. Armed only with recommendations and referrals from past mentors, I applied to a training camp in an Argentinian volleyball club in hopes they would recruit me once I’ve proven my worth. Like most things, it doesn’t always go according to plan.

As soon as I arrived in Argentina, I had my phone stolen. Fortunately, I had the number of the coach I was going to stay with in my notebook and called from another traveler’s cellphone. I ended up waiting at the transport terminal for hours. I was flustered and, once the coach arrived, devastatingly embarrassed.

I expressed my sincere apology and hopped on the ride recognizing a faint look he gave me, as if he was sizing me up. He wasn’t impressed. He was right not to be. As soon as I arrived in the training camp, we were lined up for attendance. I found myself in a row full of taller, burlier and younger men. It was excruciating for my already delicate self-esteem, but I did what I could. I performed just as I always have. Unfortunately, the usual wouldn’t cut it.

“Oh everyone here is pretty athletic, huh?”

“Yeah maybe.”

“Oh, you’re already eyeing someone who won’t make the cut?”

“Tch. I haven’t seen any hot stuff from the Japanese guy.”

“Oh him? Physically, he’s not really remarkable, huh?”

“Yeah, I’d expect someone with lesser physical assets would make it up with something amazing, but so far he’s been so-so.”

“Same thoughts.”

I smiled from behind the shadows of the bleachers. You have to hand it to them, they weren’t wrong. However, they don’t know one tiny detail. Wherever I may lack physically and technically, I compensate quite well in my world-class pigheadedness. I walk away from the shadows gripping on my water bottle.

To say that I didn’t feel a smidge of insecurity would be a lie. After all, I’ve always had a lack of confidence for myself even back at home. How much more in Argentina? I returned to my dorm room. Click. Locking the door behind me to comfortably settle into my desk. The empty and deformed plastic water bottle is thrown to the bin as I replace it with a pen and paper in hand. Click. I begin to scribble a schedule.

Anxiety is a very interesting term. Often, we think it’s the crazed mentally debilitating emotion that comes usually comes from fear. Don’t get me wrong, it can be excruciatingly paralyzing from both a mental and physical standpoint, but the thing is I thrived on living in fear. Anxiety has always been a double-edged sword for me. It nudged me to keep in excellent shape and pegged me down whenever I felt complacent. Of course, I made sure never to show it though. Seldom do people have fun being with someone who openly berates or depreciates themselves, even if it’s in a joke. The fact of the matter is that we all want to be nice so I just choose to be brutally honest in my head instead. It was fine. It works well with me.

This is why I’ve always envied Tobio. I’ve always held a personal theory that, deep down, all the great aces and players were all anxious inside too. They were practicing behind the scenes, training beyond the program and dieting above their performance level. We all had that classmate who you would ask if they’ve studied the exam material yet. They’d tell you that they haven’t touched the notes at all. Then, after the exam, you’d find out they were the top of the class. I always had one thought about those people. _‘You fucking liar!’_ You don’t cram a whole exam in one night and just end up the top of the class. I absolutely dispelled the notion of the genius the moment people started calling me a genius in volleyball. At first, it was a really nice compliment. It was so flattering that it would make me blush, but, as it came out more often in the mouths of people, it started to dawn on me that if I was a genius who had to practice and train so much more than I let on, then most probably there really isn’t such a thing as a natural genius.

No, there really isn’t.

The reason I envied Tobio for so long was because he didn’t need anxiety at all to excel. As you meet more people, you discover the blessed few who don’t need to ruminate on others or themselves. How they look, how they perform and what other people think are absolutely nonexistent thoughts in their head. They only know one thing- to do great at what needs to be done here and now. That presence of mind has always alluded me. Tobio had it naturally. He didn’t have the perceptiveness to care about any his surroundings, standing or public image. He only had himself and volleyball.

_‘Sometimes I wish I didn’t care, but I do.’_

I held up the schedule I jotted down. I get up from my seat, take a small strip of scotch tape and stick the paper unto my door. There are some people can’t live without anxiety because it’s the propelling factor that makes them seek out greater heights. In all my years of living, I’m absolutely sure I’m one of them.

I return to the present day. I continue scrolling until I see Iwa-chan’s posts. There is a price to winning with anxiety and that’s living with fear. You can’t satiate or calm down the nerves until you have fully convinced yourself that you are prepared for what’s to come. That’s why you need an insurmountable amount of dedication to thrive in it. It’s also why, most of the time, you wouldn’t have the time, energy and emotional capacity for anything else.

The bright light gleams sharper and clearer against my eyes. I tap the screen to reveal a set of photos of Iwa-chan in California, happily holding hands with his new partner, Ushijima, on a hike. It’s been 2 years now and they were still going strong. The Seijo group chat would joke around about how he would be next to get married. Maybe even next year.

Anxiety, fear and the greed for accomplishment makes you let go of things even if you don’t want to. What’s worse is that sometimes they go to people you least like, making you wonder if it means you were a lesser being once more.

I was about to tap the screen to leave a happy comment when a knock hits the door. I turn off my phone and answer, “Coming!” I quickly get up and greet the person on the other side of the door. “What?” As I swing the panel, the pleading eyes of my older sister meets me as she dangles a plastic bag full of milk bread.

“Tooru!” She bows her head and rubs her hands together. “I know you’re here for vacation, but I really need a favor from you.”

“Huh?” I raise my brow.

Days later, I find myself in a commitment to attend a parent-teacher appointment for Takeru. However, it seems that instead of talking, all we’ve been doing is running. I jog back and forth halls of empty classrooms. I come to a full stop once I reach the fourth floor. I look side to side through the halls and still no sign of Takeru. I amble toward the window, hearing the sound of the autumn wind. _‘Let me just catch my breath.’_ I tug at the neckline of my sweater hoping to catch some breeze into the fabric. “This was not the type of outfit to run in.” I grunt again thinking about Suga-chan. _‘Where is that guy? He asked for my help, but I feel like I’m doing all the work.’_

“Speak of the devil.” As I peered outside, I see a grey-haired teacher stroll towards the other side of school building. I felt pissed. I was here running my heart out while he was on the other side strolling around the courtyards. I planted both my hands against the bottom window frame. _‘I need to give this teacher an earful about urgency.’_

I run again, shuffling downwards through four flights of stairs and several corridors. Few sweat beads slowly drop on my side as I dart left and right for the grey-haired ghost. I go into the other buildings courtyard, eyeing the atrium for any grey-haired people until I hear the sobs of a grown man. I peek from a corner of the building spotting the grey-haired ghost in a despairing state. “Oikawa, what have you done this time?” I whisper to myself as I land a palm into my forehead. Turning away from what most probably is my fault, I slide down against the concrete wall unto my butt meets the grass. I take in a deep breath.

“Sometimes I hate myself.” The real problem was never Suga-chan, but me. No one actually wants to be mean, but, at some point, we become mean. Be it from a temperamental shout, a push or shove and even a tad bullying on the court, we project a twisted part of ourselves. I heave a sigh. At some point, I have to grow up. There’s no Iwa-chan to pick me up now.

That’s how I ended up comforting a grown man, giving up my coat in the blustering cold of autumn and telling him the cruel story of how I wouldn’t be the best person for Takeru to talk to about having a broken heart. After all, at least, Takeru tried.

“I had someone.” I clasp my hands together this time, maybe because I needed something to steady myself for this part of me. This was the part of me I never told to anyone, neither interviewer nor family. “A childhood friend whom I fell in love with at an early age.”

* * *

Even back then, Iwa-chan had a tanned skin, dark spiky hair and his signature resting bitch face. None of the kids on the playground wanted to approach Iwa-chan because of that. In fact, many of them would say we were a stark contrast to one another. I had fair skin, soft brown curls and an appealing people-pleasing face. Even the little girls back then would fawn over me. Little did they know between me and Iwa-chan, I had the worse attitude. I guess it’s this bad attitude in the first place that made me friends with him.

The playground kids and I were playing volleyball. I’d bring the ball and teach them how to bounce it up, bump it to each other score a serve. We were all pretty wobbly to begin with and it was only an hour later that we managed a rally. I’d smile. I’d wave things off. I’d tell them not to mind it every time the ball dropped.

In reality, I was pissed. The other playground kids sucked. It annoyed me to my wits that none of the kids could get the ball up as much as I could, but no matter how much I wanted to play the right way, my own insecurities of making friends and having everyone get along took precedence. I heaved a sigh. This conflict of interest pummeled me every day until I had to let it out.

Quietly, when everyone else was gone and it was just me and the orange afternoon sun, I’d let out all my frustrations unto a poor little thicket of green. “Argh!” I’d throw the volleyball at the bush. “Why does everyone suck? I mean, is it so hard to pick up a ball with your arms? Setting is so much harder than just bumping a ball up!” I kick the fallen volleyball out of the bushes. “Hmph! I need to find better playmates.”

There was a rustle. I darted my eyes to the side where the ball rolled hitting the front of another boy’s slipper. The boy was pretty roughed up. From the looks of it, he must have been bullied by the older kids on the playground.

“Uh.” I mustered. The beat up kid picked up the volleyball and looked with me with his dark angry eyes. I stood there frozen glancing side to side across the playground and realizing if he wanted to kill me, now would be the best time. We were alone. Only the dark shadows of the playground came to watch what would unfold. I looked back at the angry boy who was staring unto the volleyball. _‘He could steal it for all I care!’_ I just wanted to get out of there alive. I started to devise getaway plans when I heard a familiar and repetitive thud of the ball. Thump. Thump. Thump.

My eyes widened to the spectacle of the boy bumping the ball up and down with ease. He did it so nonchalantly that it gave a really cool vibe off him. My jaw dropped and I would have never realized how agape it was until the boy stopped bumping the ball and tucked it under his arm.

“Yeah, you guys suck at volleyball.”

I felt like a mallet was hit against my head by that insult. “Excuse me! You mean they suck!” I pointed at the empty space of the playground before I realized I was incriminating myself further. “Uh, wait I mean-“

“Don’t worry.” The boy throws the ball up and starts bumping it against his forearms. “I won’t tell them.” He bounces the ball easily to the point that he forwards his stance launching the ball to me. Out of instinct, I receive it to only return the ball to the roughened up boy.

“Thanks.”

We continued bumping the ball against each other until the afternoon turned evening. “Hey!” Bump. “What’s your name?” Bump.

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Bump.

“Oikawa Tooru.” Bump.

The next day, all the playground kids would gather again to try to play volleyball. Even the older kids would leave Iwa-chan alone to fawn over me once more. “Come on Oikawa, let’s play!” I grinned nervously as I tried to find a way to have everyone play better than last time.

“Oi!” Everyone’s attention turned. Eyes were on the roughened up Iwa-chan. “Let’s make teams.” He eyed me. An audible contention was festering among the usual mob of kids, but I liked the idea. I flashed my most congenial smile. “Yeah Iwa-chan is right! Let’s split into teams and make a rally.” I saunter behind Iwa-chan. “I pick Iwa-chan first!” I peeked over the young boy’s shoulder to see a slight flush of pink spread across his face. _‘I wonder what he likes more. When I called him Iwa-chan or when I picked him first?’_

That’s how it started. That’s how Iwa-chan and I pummeled everyone in the playground in volleyball. However, because of that lesser and lesser kids wanted to play with us. Then again, lesser and lesser kids both stopped picking on Iwa-chan and bugging me with their mediocre plays. I guess Iwa-chan could thank me for sticking my nose into things and I could thank him for always being so naturally scary. It came to a point that it was only the two of us who continued playing volleyball. For once, I didn’t mind because I found someone who didn’t mind either.

Maybe it was because we were kids. Or maybe it was the odd obsession we both had for the game. Either way, I treasured the feeling of having someone know what trash you are and still accept you anyway. Iwa-chan has known my people-pleasing tendencies. He’s seen me breakdown and lash out from my insecurities. He had to deal with my horrible thralls of emotions going up and down unpredictably. Yet, he chose to stay by me anyway.

That’s how Iwa-chan became a very important person in my life, but even he couldn’t shake off my own insecurities. I had so many chances. I had classes, lunches, practices, weekends and vacation breaks to tell him how I felt, but love is also a victim of our own twisted mental state.

From middle school until high school, we would walk the same direction every day. Scrunch. However, I loved our walks during the autumn season the most. From the crumpled maple leaves that carpeted the pavement to the light grey clouds that feathered the purple sky, our walks back home was always spectacular, especially since our path sloped downtown. From the top of the course, you could see the whole of downtown painted in pastel purples and blues, to be contrasted with the slight touches of oranges and golds of towering trees. However, what I love the most about our walks in fall was the blustering wind.

Despite being clad in thick coats, sweaters and scarves, the north wind would surround us with the frigid cold. As kids, we learned to cope with it by sticking to each other’s side throughout the whole trip until each of us returned to the refuge of our warm homes. As we got older, I’d still walk by Iwa-chan’s side and gently lean unto his chest. He would give me a look sometimes, but he never refused me. Little by little, he started doing the same. Leaning unto each other like that was special to me. I’d sometimes dig my head into my scarf bluffing that I was still cold. Iwa-chan would notice and inch his body closer to me. _‘Between the two us, Iwa-chan was always the nice guy.’_ In reality, from under the scarf, I was stifling a giddy smile I wouldn’t manage to hide from him alone.

Our walks went that way. We’ve talked much in the day that we felt there was nothing more to talk about at night. No words, just sounds. Our hands would never touch, our eyes would never meet and our lips were always closed.

_‘So close, yet so far.’_

The closest I could get would be the sound of his breath. He’d grunt, take a sharp gasp of air and repeat. That sound was clear, crisp and consistent against the shell of my ear. Sometimes I felt that his mouth was so close he could lick me right then and there, but he never did.

That’s what happened. Never happened to us. No one ever told me you could break your own heart by not doing anything at all too.

* * *

I trail my eyes back at Suga-chan whose eyes have slightly recovered from its puffy state. His slender body moved forward, looking frail and delicate. However, his face was set into pouting scowl. His brows creased heavily down the middle and his ash eyes were livid with determination. Gone were the glassy orbs that had a sad lingering state. This man was terribly fired up and I didn’t know why.

Rustle.

“What? You never told each other?” He throws his hands unto my shoulder and begins to shake me out of the rut of memories I had. “How could you?” He continues shaking me back and forth. “You had years!” I quickly grab his shoulder and put a stop to his shaking shenanigans. He freezes at the sight of my serious face, eyes empty and lips flat.

Then, I gave a mischievous smile and began my counterattack. I shook Suga-chan back and forth harder while shouting back at him, “What do you mean how dare I? Of course, I wouldn’t! I was scared to lose him!”

Suga-chan shook me back in reply, “What’s worse? Losing him or not having even tried?” He struck a nerve there so I repeated the cycle once more, giving him a good shake like an old-fashion maraca.

“Don’t piss your do or die nonsense on me! Not everyone is as lucky as you to end up with their first love!” I huffed, stopping my turn and actually expecting him to shake me back, but he didn’t. His hands dropped unto his lap as he looked into the distance.

In an almost flat tone, he muses “Sometimes, I wonder if I really am.”

Rustle.

I look at the quieted demeanor of the school teacher. His face was obscure from sight, but his hands could tell a story. They clasped against each other, fidgeted amongst fingers and pressed hard unto the skin.

“Daichi. Sawamura Daichi was my first love and-“ He stuttered like it was his first time to utter a word. “Passed away 3 years ago.”

“Argh!” I planted two solid palms unto my face. He panicked, but the motion thankfully made him relaxed. I waved a hand to his face while I let out a timid laugh. “Here I am trying to humor and comfort you and the next thing I do is bring up the topic of your dead boyfriend. I really am the worst without trying.” I roll my eyes on myself.

Luckily, he laughs, whole-heartedly this time. He wipes a small tear from his. “Husband actually. But, you know, I don’t regret falling in love with him.” He grips unto his cardigan. “Never.” He grips again, tighter this time. He takes a deep breath and replaces his languid grief into a determined grin once more.

“If there’s one thing I learned from Daichi’s death, it’s that life is short. I only have one life to do things right.” He pierces my eyes with his ash stare again. “Daichi and I would have our own set of mistakes, fights and falling out.” He laughs gently, while he takes his time recalling moments from years ago. He touches his lips steadying the mouth that would reveal his inner secrets. He continues.

“In fact, when he was still alive, I sometimes wondered if our marriage would last a lifetime. Until, of course, it didn’t for other reasons.” He rolled his eyes in a joke to the gods. “However, you know what made the grief hard to handle?” He inches slightly closer to my face and nods his head with every enunciation of his words. “It wasn’t fights, the broken glass or the empty space on the bed. It was the regret of not having said or done things at all.” Suga leans his head against my shoulder like a support after nodding his head so much. I hear his audible sigh.

“I always thought I was being a good husband by being gentle with my words, letting him stick to his choices and choosing peace over conflict. Yet, I wish I told him how much his goody-two shoes attitude annoyed the hell out of me. I wish I was mean enough to tell him that his haircut was out of date for his age. I wish I made a scene at the police station to give him my two cents on leaving me to go to the wedding alone.” He let his gaze trail down unto my lap where he laid his hand open, coaxing an invitation for mine. I took it and was surprised that his hands were just as supple as how they looked. To my surprise, we didn’t just hold hands. We were quiet enough that I could hear how he purposefully brush his fingers against my palms, how he intended not to rest at intertwining our fingers and, instead, relished the faint touch and sound of skin brushing against skin.

He refocuses while fidgeting with my fingers. “More often than not, I regret not having been difficult at all.” He pauses. “Maybe I had it wrong. Maybe living the most out of life the right way isn’t about being kind and proper. It’s not about maintaining peace or pride. It’s about being authentic and real to yourself.”

“Even if that brings pain?” I muse flashing back to the long autumn nights I’d walk silently with Iwa-chan.

“Even pain has value.” Suga-chan breaks away from my hand and takes in my face. He notices that he caught me off guard and proceeds to lessen the distance between our face. Bump. We were head-to-head and nose-to-nose. I couldn’t help but feel my heart race and heat spread through my cheeks. _‘And I thought I was the bold one!’_

He whispers. “Sadness, agony and pain are teachers sent from somewhere beyond. They tell you things about yourself that you wouldn’t know except in such dark circumstances and, personally, -“He leans closer making our lips brush briefly. “Sometimes they’re there to clear you out for a greater joy and happiness. That may be your most authentic self.” He breaks away turning millimeters back into inches.

“Or maybe someone who you could be your most authentic self with, at least.” Suga-chan solidly plants his hands on his lap again, gripping at the fabric of his pants. “I wonder if this will be enough to help Takeru with his heartbreak.” He muses.

I release a mischievous smirk, raising a brow at him. “Why don’t you ask him that?”

Rustle.

I cup my cheek with one hand and point towards the bushes with my other hand. “I’ve been wondering where that rustling sound was coming from ever since I started telling my story about Iwa-chan.” The grey-haired man follows the direction of my finger to a thicket behind the eaves of the courtyard.

I yell to quicken the pace. “Takeru! I can see your buzz cut from here! Get out of there!”

The bushes fidget around, losing leaves and branches in turn for revealing my equally tear-stained nephew. His uniform was dirtied and his eyes were just as puffy as his teacher’s. Though, he makes his best effort to hide it by wiping his tears and snot unto his sleeve.

I holler once more. “Takeru, did you just hear what your sensei and I talked about?” The little boy looks like he’s about to tear up again as swells of water edge from his eyes.

“Yes!” He screams back to me before making a run towards us. “Oji-san! Sensei!” He makes an energetic leap unto both our necks, knocking us over the bench. “I’m sorry!” He manages to muster from the ground.

I pull myself up against the pile of maple leaves we fell into. “Ugh! Takeru control yourself!” I yelled back at the boy before giving him a light punch on the head. I extend my hand to Suga who falls flat on his back upon impact. I blush briefly, averting my eyes from the cute image of his pale mid rift revealing the soft, lean and unblemished skin from his upside position. _‘He looks really divine splayed out like that.’_

I shove the thought back down.

The three of us get a hold of ourselves and reconcile with one another, most especially with Takeru. The boy apologizes for his behavior and comes clean with the story of his heartbreak. However, he quickly redeems the sour attitude and beams back at his teacher about his inspirational love story. I smile. I let the boy walk ahead of us as we head back to the car with Suga-chan in tow to bid us a safe trip home.

With hands behind my back, I conspired to get something more out of this. Leaving so peacefully after having talked closely to each other like that just didn’t seem right. After all, I want to actually do something with someone I like this time.

“Hey Suga-chan, let me treat you out to some dinner. After all, as Iwa-chan would say, I was a complete Shittykawa to you today.”

Suga lets out a hearty laugh and places a hand over his mouth, halfheartedly concealing a grin. “Shittykawa suits you.” He clasps his hands in deep thought. “I’ll think about it.” My brows lift higher than usual over the uncertainty of the comment.

I spot our car only a few meters away. Not wanting to end things like that, I push him a little further. “Don’t you think I deserve a yes after you ghosted me so many years ago?”

“Ugh!” I smile. He’s given up.

We finally arrive at our car and Suga-chan looks at me disdainfully. However, he throws his hands over my neck in exasperation. Giving me a cheeky little stare, he proceeds to intertwine his hands with mine, before giving it a tight little squeeze. “Tonight, 7pm at the Ramen house.” He let’s go and immediately speed walks out of there.

I was still getting a hold of my bearings when I hear Takeru mimic a cough to get my attention. He smirks. “So does that mean you’re dating my teacher? Do you think you could ask him to help me raise my grades?”

I blush red. “Takeru! Raise them yourself you heartbroken punk!”

Hours later, I find myself in the Ramen house, a small noodle bar lit in red. At the far corner to my left, I see Suga-chan waving.

“Sorry, I hope you didn’t wait too long. I had to explain a lot of things to Takeru’s mother.”

He laughs. “I’m sure you did.” He lifts the thin plastic of the menu. “What would you like to order?” We set our meals and press the service buttons to our side, signaling our orders.

“I miss this part of Japan.”

“The automated and quick service?”

“Yeah. Well, personal interaction is another level with Argentinians though. They definitely know how to keep up a good conversation.”

He giggles. “I don’t think I’d survive much there. I like keeping to myself.”

“Oh really?” I challenge.

He butts back, “Why do you think I ghosted you all those years ago?”

I raise my hands up in surrender. “Point taken. But you know-“I narrow my eyes towards him as I make a cheeky smile. “I was lying when I said I was curious. Actually, I really thought you were pretty.”

He snorts.

“What was that?” I blurt out.

“Oh, it’s just I was lying too when I said I ghosted you because I was just in love with someone else.” He rolls his eyes. “To be honest, even if I wasn’t in love with someone else, I wouldn’t give you a chance at all.”

It was like my heart took a bullet when he said that. Willing to dig deeper into my own grave, I push him some more. “Oh? So what was the reason?”

“You just have a really awful personality off the bat!” He sips his tea.

 _‘Do I really give off that much of a horrible image?’_ I smile nervously as sweat beads fall at the back of my head. “I surrender! There really isn’t any excuse for the way I behaved, but, let’s be real, it was a game. Physical as well as mental quips are just as important in dominating the opponent.”

He flashed a disappointed stare turning away and towards the service man that quickly brought us our bowls of ramen. Suga-chan breaks the wooden chopsticks into two with an audible snap in front of my face as if to demonstrate the pent of fury he must have had during that game. “I wonder if dominating means beating the opponent at the game or beating the opponent while in the game.” I didn’t get the difference and he could tell that. He let out an exasperated breath. “Whether it was to really win or satiate your ego, You really broke Kageyama that day. You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined how to get back at you for what you did to him.” He starts stirring the bowl of soup and noodles with his wooden implements. “However-“ He lifts his chopsticks up and daringly points at my nose. “If it weren’t for you, I may have not been such a cool senpai.”

“Yeah. I remember you played during that game too. Surprisingly, you stole the show for a time.” I diverted the conversation away from how much of an asshole I was.

He doesn’t bother to cover his smirk. I freeze up. “Don’t tell me that was the game that you fell in love with me, Oikawa-san?” He teases in a soft voice. With all my pride, I refused to answer back and proceeded to slurp a bit of noodles into my stomach. _‘Maybe.’_

* * *

It was the second day of the Inter-High preliminaries and we would face Karasuno. The Sendai Gymnasium had a nicely lit volleyball court with pristine wooden floor boards. The viewing deck was filled with several onlookers. Many of them were fans of mine. As soon as I stepped out, I made sure to flash the usual smile and wave back at the flock of women screaming my name.

I eye the sea of black on the other side. Karasuno flocks amongst each other as they get sorted. With the number of young fledglings, they all look like young crow chicks. I giggle and jog my way to the bench when I catch sight of one particularly grey-haired crow.

My eyes narrow at his face. The other side of being pigheaded is taking small slights against you as very personal insults. _‘The ghoster.’_ My mouth pulls into a petty scowl.

On the practice match with Karasuno, I didn’t find him particularly remarkable except for one thing. He was prettier than the average guy. He was just so easy on the eyes. He wasn’t physically spectacular that it would make your heart race, but he wasn’t lacking in any handsome features too. His overall image was just soothing. I could look at him all day and you could call it eye therapy.

That’s what I thought when I decided to hit him up one night. Unfortunately, that chance passed us the moment he didn’t reply back. I know I shouldn’t but I couldn’t help it. I mulled over it because a person who cares much about himself and others normally would.

_‘Did I come out to strong?’_

_‘Is he shy?’_

_‘Damn it! He must think I’m some pervert or something!’_

The list goes on. I ruffled my hair over all the misconceptions that he could have formed from our simple and terse conversation. I shook it off, burying the memories of me sending him many more messages and even trying to call. It was only when I asked Iwa-chan what it meant when someone hasn’t replied or answered your calls.

“Either you were blocked or ghosted.”

Neither answer was comforting. The real crux of the problem was that Suga-chan was my first encounter of a ghoster. Seeing that ghoster again and having to behave properly was a disquieting notion for me. _‘It’s a good thing he stays on the side.’_ If he was going to play on the court, a part of me would want to do my absolute best to make the game excruciating for him. I want to make him regret treating me so badly. After all, is the dating so hard? A simple “I’m not interested” would have been enough.

“Tch.” I walk it off returning to Iwa-chan’s side.

The team captain of Karasuno and I shake hands to begin the game. Karasuno is up to serve. The players scramble into position and I do the same until I spot my old protégé. I smile. “Hey Tobio-chan.” The boy stops his run and turns my way. I place a hand on my waist and lift my head up a bit. “I’m looking forward to bringing down the genius setter-“ I edge my face down and narrow my eyes to pierce through his. “So try to hang in there.”

Anxiety is my friend on this stage. The ability to be aware of your surroundings, to perceive the physical prowess and conditions of players across the court as well as to determine the mental and emotional states of your team mates are skills only unlocked with a certain sensitivity. Caring has always been my problem, but, on court, caring is where I am strongest. _‘I wonder, Tobio-chan, have you learned to care at all?’_

The blonde four eyes serves. Kunimi picks it up and the spikers secure their run-up. I position myself eyeing Iwa-chan when I jump. Smack. The vibration of the ball hitting the floor boards resonate audibly on court. All eyes turn to me as I stretch my hands to open and close. _‘That was a good dump.’_ I turn to Tobio-chan’s surprised gaze. Smiling, I wave to him “Better keep your guard up.” The first point goes to us.

The game continues with the ball going back and forth serves, receives and spikes. However, we continue to hold a four-point lead against Karasuno. I eye the back of Tobio’s head. I could sense it, his own anxiety is starting to bubble up in him. I snort as I tilt my head to the side. ‘I’ve got you figured out.’ Karasuno receives the ball and Tobio-chan makes a jump for it. The rest of Seijo wait for the toss, whereas I do a run-up to jump just a few second later than Tobio-chan. _‘I knew it.’_ Tobio’s body is frozen in the air as he fights to dump the ball in only to unexpectedly meet the equally adverse force of my hands. I smile and slam the ball to the other side. Tobio-chan lands solidly on his rear end with a thump while I make it smoothly down on my two feet. With both hands on my waist and a head crowed downwards on Tobio-chan, I sneakily say “It’s easy to stop a dump-“I raise my brow suggestively. “Especially if the player is anxious.”

Chink.

“Oi, what are you thinking?” Iwa-chan runs towards me as we position for a block against Karasuno’s counterattack.

“Well, Iwa-chan-“I point at Tobio. “Don’t you think we’re getting closer to breaking a genius?” I smile sadistically.

Iwa-chan nudges me on the side before we prep for a launch up. “You really have a horrible attitude.” I fight back with my tongue out.

The rhythm of the game gets quicker. My eyes narrowed at Tobio-chan. _‘He’s purposefully making sure his spikers are hitting fast so they won’t get blocked by our wall.’_ Seijo and I operate as usual, receiving the quick attacks and calming it down to suit our time. Hanamaki receives the spike and lifts the ball high up. “Good job Hanamaki!” I set to Iwa-chan and he spikes the ball to floor again.

I spot Tobio-chan’s eyes. It darts intensely unto the scoreboard. Pressure.

Chink.

It was Matsukawa’s turn to serve. He spikes the ball into the other side of the court. However, Karasuno’s captain receives it well, lifting it up for Tobio. I smirk. Tobio’s eyes dart at multiple directions. Left? Right? Center? He frantically searched for an opening, until he touched the ball. My eyes trailed the toss having already jumped in the wrong direction. Nonetheless, I laugh.

Tobio-chan sent the ball straight to the blonde-haired four eyes. However, it comes up late. _‘Maybe it’s better this way. What’s harsher than being shut down by an opponent?_ ’ I narrow my auburn gaze unto the obscured face of Tobio-chan.

_‘It’s when you shut yourself down.’_

Crack.

My lip curls up higher than usual and I run to Iwa-chan to change positions. I give him a fist which he instinctively bumps. “Iwa-chan-“He raises his brow incredulously as I gesture to the other side. A whistle blows and commotion festers on the black team. Tobio’s forlorn stance is further frozen into a desolate state when he sees his number sign raised for substitution. “Looks like we broke a genius.” I half-heartedly cover a giggle.

 _‘This court is mine to dominate now.’_ I have to say things would go smoothly if not only for one person- the ghoster. The player that replaced Tobio-chan was none other than Suga-chan. He beams into the court hitting each player on the side and giving them high fives.

I snort.

This is the first time I’d actually see him in action on court, but I have to say he really has a way of refreshing the mood. Nonetheless, he isn’t Tobio. Maybe the gods are on my side giving me the opportunity to hit two birds with one stone. First, take down Tobio. Second, make Mr. Ghost writhe in pain as they lose the set.

All of a sudden, Mr. Ghost calls the blonde-haired boy to his side. ‘He’s cooking up something.’ Karasuno serves and Watari receives. I ready the set up for Kindaichi and make a clean toss. I smile. Kindaichi beautifully leaps into the air making perfect timing spiking the ball to only be denied by the tall, lanky blonde. My brows crease. _‘Smart Mr. Ghost. You made a deal to switch positions with the tall one, huh?’_ Maybe he wasn’t just another setter after all. The game continues and, though I was confident that we make a smooth break from Karasuno, Mr. Ghost keeps us on our toes.

“He’s quite a strategist, don’t you think Iwa-chan?” I nudge the spiker during our time-out.

“Hm.” Iwa-chan’s eyes land on the grey haired boy. Mr. Ghost bounces from team member to team member, peppering them up with his easy-going personality.

I smile, cupping my chin. “I have to say-“I dart my eyes between Iwa-chan and Mr. Ghost until the spiker grows angry.

“Spit it out! What is it?”

I throw my hands up in the air. “It would be nice to always have that face to look at.” I turn my eyes to Iwa-chan’s angry scowl. “Ugh! Instead, I get Iwa-chan’s ugly face.” I turn to sit on the bench as Kindaichi grabs a hold of Iwa-chan’s torso to stop him from murdering me as usual. I take a sip from my water bottle. _‘But really, I think Mr. Ghost’s face would be much more refreshing.’_

Unfortunately, he would do little to turn the tables around. After his ten minutes of fame, Tobio steps in again. The boy is charged with motivation left by Mr. Ghost. Karasuno bites back and pummels us with more spikes. I would be lying if I didn’t say it made me worried. In the last set, we reach a deuce with Karasuno, going over the 30-point margin. Everyone is at their limit. Even, Mr. Ghost is panting on the side. My lips curl. The whistle blows. It’s my turn to serve.

Tension is in the air as I play with the ball in my hands. After all, my serves are quite the killer. I narrow my eyes on Tobio.

_‘Tobio-‘_

I throw the ball into the air and run up into a leap. I swing my arm into full power connecting with the ball making an audible smack with its surface. The ball is launched into the other side. “Tch.” Unfortunately, it’s cleanly saved by their libero.

_‘You are indeed a genius.’_

I make a run towards my position and ready to receive anytime.

_‘I may just lose to you.’_

Tobio makes a run to the rear making a fine arch of his back to catapult the ball to the direction of the net. Meanwhile, his orange-haired friend makes a speedy run up into the air.

_‘However, that day isn’t today.’_

The ball is spiked with all the shrimpy’s strength to only be denied by our 3-man block. It was an absolute shut down. I lift my head to the ceiling and soak up the intensity in the air as the ball makes a repetitive thud unto the floor.

 _‘We brought down a genius-’_ As I turn my head to greet the team with congratulations, I briefly see the furious expression of Mr. Ghost’s face. _‘And maybe my chances with Mr. Ghost too.’_

* * *

We laugh the memory off. “You were so horrible to Kageyama!” We take stand out of our seats and amble our way to the door way where we both pay and bid a thank you to the establishment. “Well, let’s be fair.” I hear an audible snort from him. “Fair to who? Kageyama?” I hum in disdain. “No! Fair to me of course! Kageyama is the genius setter of the prefecture. You expect me to dial back any tool I could possibly use to bring him down? Now, that’s not fair.”

Suga-chan obliges a timid giggle. “But you know, it’s starting to show.” He gestures to my face.

“What is?”

“How much you look up to him.”

In a flat tone, I manage to calmly say. “I have never been insulted that way in my entire life.” I frown at Suga, trying to repress the faint blush rising to my cheeks. He laughs at my attempt and sees through it. “Anyway-“ I continue. “Genius setter or not, I’ll always find a way to bring him down with or without mental taunts.”

He begins to rapidly poke my finger into my shoulder, like a thousand daggers teasing me. “Is that you or your insecurity talking?” He jokes.

“Both.” I willingly admit. All of a sudden, I noticed we were ambling away from the food and pub district of town.

“Hey.” I gesture behind me. “I brought a car. Let me at least drive you home.” The teacher turns accentuating the beautiful arch of his back that ends with the smooth curve of his bum. He sheepishly grins.

“Actually, the reason I chose this place was because it was within walking distance from my place. If you’d like you could repay me by walking me home instead.” I heave sigh and oblige.

We walk in silence out of the reach of the bright neon lights of the market and into the quieter parts of the neighborhood illuminated by the moon. “Sorry, it’s a little far.” He says.

“It’s no problem.” I reply back.

There’s something awfully familiar about our walk. It’s not the same path. It’s not with the same person. Maybe it’s because it’s fall. If it weren’t for my long walks with Iwa-chan, I wouldn’t really like fall.

If you really think about it, fall is the season when things die. Imagine the green scenic backdrop of Miyagi transforming into a Halloween production set where lush canopies start to wither into bald forks of branches and barks on the ground; where the tall and proud grass is pummeled into a dirty brown undergrowth amongst the dead bodies of leaves; and where howling winds comes blowing the fragments of decomposing nature unto your hair and clothes. Conceptually, fall kind of sucks. _‘However-‘_

We continue walking and the bluster of wind strongly pushes against us. Suga may try to hide it, but I immediately notice his great effort to make a stand against the winds. I smile. He puts a hand up against his face hoping to protect his sides from an onslaught of autumn leaves whirling in the wind. I sigh. _‘Maybe everyone needs to let go of dead things, dead habits and dead loves.’_ Scrunch. I step ahead of Suga-chan and extend my left hand towards him and slide my right over his shoulder pulling him closer to me. “Take my hand. We have a long way to go, right?” The teacher is surprised at first, but lifts a smile from underneath the makeshift shield of his arms.

Fall is the season where things die to make way for the living.

Surprisingly, he starts leaning into my chest.

**Suga**

Scrunch.

Normally, the walk from the Ramen house would be quick and easy. However, oddly enough, it felt longer than usual and as if something was heavy in the air. Maybe it was the north wind. Unfortunately, the autumn weather assailed us from both sides of the road. The frigid breeze seeped into the crevices of my cashmere coat and wool sweater to send indefinite shivers throughout my spine. To make matters worse, the leaf carpeted pavement unveiled swirling curtains of crumpled maple leaves our way. The walk turned to an eventful adventure of dodging leaf after branch after leaf. I mentally laughed at the thought.

 _Alone, this walk would be difficult and tiring.’_ I turn to my side, the source of the shadow that both looms and protects me. _‘But I’m not.’_

Oikawa, unfortunately, realized my difficulty during our walk and single-handedly decided to help me through the assault of the north winds. With his taller and wider frame, he encapsulated my entire body with a single arm, bringing me under his wing and tucking me closer to his chest. Thump. He extends his other hand towards me. _‘As if you’ve even given me a choice. I’m already here.’_ I oblige his hand with mine.

Even though the feeling was familiar, it was definitely different.

In the unprecedented position we took, I could hear a different symphony. The whir and howl of the winds were muffled against the surface of the coated arm around my shoulder. Instead, the rustling of wool fabric brushed and echoed gently against my right ear. Thump. On my left, I could hear the faint gasps and grunts of air that Oikawa could manage under the circumstance. I looked up. His face was painted with a kind of determination and resolve. I couldn’t understand it. _‘We were just walking, right?’_ The wind blows another number on us and I shiver underneath my layers, digging deeper into Oikawa’s broad and defined chest. In my endeavor to do so, I only realize seconds after that I had placed a hand right over his core, feeling up the well-defined abdomen beneath the fabric. I quickly turn my face towards the pavement, averting his gaze and hiding the undeniable blush rising to my face. Heat. I had activated a heat in my body I didn’t know existed. I was about to retract my hand and thoughts when I heard it. Thump. There was a soft, steady, but speedy beating against the knitted surface. Thump. Understandably, it raced faster whenever I slid my palm lower and lower. I smile from underneath my obscured face.

 _‘You may try to hide it, but you really are just as nervous as I am._ ’ Slowly, I understood the reason behind his determined scowl a while ago. It wasn’t the crumpling of the leaves, the rustling of fabric or the quickness breath that held my attention anymore. Throughout the walk, there was only one sound I wanted to hear more than anything.

_‘Maybe this was an opportunity to do things differently. Same but different.’_

I decide to humor life and plunge my face deeper into the breadth of Oikawa’s chest, basking in his warmth and scent. Most of all, I was listening intently and carefully to the most soothing sound of all- his beating hear. Steady. Consistent. Alive.

We arrive at my apartment in one piece. No stops. No corners. No alleys. Different. We pat ourselves down in front of my door, brushing off parts of blown leaves off our coats and hair. I smile staring at Oikawa’s body. In spite of the pretty boy look he usually dons, he actually has quite the muscular and rough physique. Oikawa took of his coat, shaking it back and forth to take out most of the street dust that may have accumulated on the surface. In doing so, his sweater layered did little to hide the lines and swells underneath his arms. Even in the guise of the evening, the little illumination of the moonlight was enough to highlight the hills and valleys that bulged and depressed according to the will of his arm. He was scowling now, having realized the shaking did so little to take out the particles on the coat. I giggle to myself. It was just such a stark contract to the fairness of his skin, softness of his face and, most especially, the childishness of his personality.

I liked it.

I turn away from him and face my door while reaching into the pocket of my coat. Clink. I search for the source of the metal ring in my coat. Clink. Fumbling from one corner of the pocket to another, I finally felt the cold touch of aluminum. Clink. I thumb for the ring of keys and bring out the clank of metal. I lodge the key into lock hole when I’m barraged by a loud thump on both sides. I turn.

_'Same but different.’_

Leaving my keys to hang by the keyhole, I turn to find myself surrounded on both sides by Oikawa’s arms. His face was obscure from being turned downwards to the ground. Nonetheless, it did nothing to make his stature less intimidating. His tall frame loomed over me and the broad of his back slightly heaved up and down, trying to hide his own quickness of breath. Slowly, he proceeds to lift his face and inch closer and closer. I try to anticipate his next move thinking if he was going to lodge his lips into mine. I prepare my face, tilting it ever so slightly like an invitation.

He stops.

Instead of his thin lips, I refocus towards his eyes. The same auburn eyes that stared at me from the other side of the court that day. Upon closer inspection, you could see the faint flecks of gold that tinged streaks of light in between. You would notice the length of his long lashes as they flicked up into a curl, dipping and rising like wings upon his every blink. However, what I noticed the most was the dilation of his pupils unto mine. They didn’t wander or waver in spite of encountering my similar stare. This was how it started after all. The staring, the longing, the pining until one of us had to give in. _‘Who would it be?’_

“Suga-chan-“I widen my eyes. Just like many years ago, the first to give in would be Oikawa because he cared. “I’m telling you right now, if you invite me into your apartment tonight, I don’t intend to keep my hands to myself.” I tease him.

“Oh? Just the hands?” I smile urging him forward.

He does, closing the inches into centimeters between our lips. I could feel it, the breath against breath. I boldly press both hands into his chest, allowing me to indulge into the fine lines of his professional career and the carnal desire to trace flesh with flesh.

“Suga-chan.”

“Koushi.” I hide the touch under the guise of making space and look up to him once more, letting him take the details of my eyes as well. “Call me Koushi.” Under the circumstances, I manage to set the record straight. I take a deep breath before delivering, “if we’re going to do it tonight, there’s one thing you should know.” I pierce his eyes with my own resolve. “I don’t like stopping when I’m in the mood so if we’re doing it-“I dip my lips into his and quickly break away. “You better make sure you won’t shy away.” I reach out to the key hole and turn the key letting the door, which has held the two us, swing open the flurry of carnal energy we’ve both been holding unto.

_‘Same but different.’_

Oikawa’s rough hands found its way to my tiny waist, pulling it closer to mine. I reach one hand into his soft russet curls, while the other does its best to reach out to the door know and do one last swing and lock of the door. The conflicting forces knocks both of us over. I laugh.

From underneath the shadow of Oikawa’s looming body, I giggle upon the impact of the fall registering the pain as a pre-game for what was to come for the rest of the night. Oikawa, on the other hand, checks up on me quickly. _‘Same but different.’_ He gently brushes fingers through my hair making sure no extreme bumps or bruises arose. “Don’t tell me you’re going to stop already because of a fall.” I challenge him. Once he surmised I was fine enough to bite back, he answered back “Tooru. Call me Tooru.” He proceeded to take off his coat and undress his torso of the knitted fabric across his chest.

 _‘Definitely different.’_ He lets out a mischievous smile and proceeds to dig his palms underneath my body, carrying me to my bed like a blushing bride. The sight and the touch of his bare skin left me breathless, leaving him unchallenged in his endeavor to carry me as so. He gently plops me on the bed and hover above me basking in the moonlight from the window. The otherworldly light fulfilled to highlight the dips and swells of Oikawa’s naked torso but, more importantly, it made transparent how Oikawa felt.

That night, the symphony between us got louder. My ears echoed with the unbuttoning of blouses, the unbuckling of belts, the brushing of fingers against hair and the smacking of lips. Each new sound would assault me, making me frailer underneath Oikawa’s feeling. _‘I wonder if the reason this guy has held unto the moment I ghosted him so long was really because of his petty insecurities.’_ Tears started forming on the edges of my eyes as my body got limper from the slithering of skin and soft gentle whispers against the shell of my ear. I could practically hear how his tongue crumpled in between bites against my ear. _‘Or maybe it was because he held unto that love for that long.’_

Sometimes we think loss from death, missed opportunities and, even, ghosted conversations are dead ends. However, who’s to really say what a dead end looks like.

**Epilogue**

The following month, I brought Tooru to the airport. His vacation from the Argentinian volleyball league was short-lived. Even though it was Christmas season, Tooru’s anxiety wouldn’t let him live it down if he slacked off just before the spring season. _‘Why do I fall for these workaholic types?’_

As we approach the gate, Tooru closes his tablet and tucks it in his bag. He turns to me trailing behind him. He was clad in a light denim jacket over a white hoodie and black ripped pants. It wasn’t the fashion for the winter season, but Tooru wouldn’t stop harping that he would die in Argentina if he sported the average winter wear of Japan. This time, I thought it best to agree to him.

Even though it’s been a month since we were dating, I still can’t help but trace back how we started. Upon the first encounter, we started bickering. On the second encounter, we cry our sob stories to each other. Then, on the third encounter, we end up making out in my bedroom breathless. To think, all of that happened in a single day. Anyone would have thought this was a fling in the making. Weirdly, it wasn’t.

 _“Kou-chan.”_ I look up seeing his arms spread wide. _‘This man.’_ He wasn’t afraid to publicly show affection. No. He wasn’t afraid at all. Not anymore. I gladly humor him and jump into his embrace, feeling every inch of him before he would have to leave.

I remember the morning after the first night we slept together.

“What are you thinking of?” Tooru would muse propping his head with one hand from under the sheets.

Beside him, I curled into a ball, allowing my chin to rest on my knees. “I wonder if we’re doing this right. After all, we basically just met yesterday.”

I hear a snort which was proceeded with an unapologetic laugh. I turned my head to a ridiculous Tooru rolling out of the bed naked while cradling his little stomach.

“Seriously? You’re thinking about that now after telling me to either go for you full on or not all?” He coaxes his eyebrow up.

My annoyance was up the roof and I decide to plummet my head into my knees, letting out an exasperated breath. “Don’t remind me Tooru!”

“Hey now, I thought I was the anxious one.” He brushes thin wisps of hair to my side and cups my face with both hands, removing them from the obscurity of my knees. “Don’t you remember what you told me back in the school courtyard?”

I raise my brows, still perplexed.

“Doing things right may not be the straight edge way that a lot of us were taught. Sometimes it’s living authentically and I am, authentically, into you Koushi.”

I immediately blush and perk up in his hands, giving him the signal to press his lips into mine. As we locked lips and bumped skins, I couldn’t help thinking _‘Tooru must have been a really smart student to remember all that so quickly.’_

One month later and we’ve come to this point. I break away from his embrace to get a resemblance of that same morning kiss. He catches on and smiles. We tilt our heads and we lock our lips into each other’s again, not shy from the public eye. _‘Very different indeed.’_ He manages to slither a swipe of tongue into mine, briefly, but longingly because we both know it would be a long time until we’d be able to touch each other like this again.

For once, I break away first, feeling the rise of my cheeks and, of course, the eyes of onlookers nearby. After all, Tooru was an international volleyball star to begin with. I crease my brows timidly at what the tabloids would think. Nonetheless, what took greater priority was how we would be in the following months after he leaves.

“Kou-chan.”

I’m shaken out of my stupor. Tooru smiles kindly as if he has a better grip on these long distance relationships than I do. Then again, when you think about how long he held unto me ghosting him for all those years, it’s not really a far cry.

He cups my face with his calloused hands. “They’re calling us to board already. I have to go, but-“He proceeds to press his forehead against mine, relishing the proximity of our breaths and heats. “I don’t plan to let this sizzle out. Next year, when I come back, let’s live together. My sister gave me some real estate we can look into, but, for now, message, text and call me, okay?” I simply nod, basking in his breath, the sound of his voice and the hum to a future.

He retracts his head and proceeds to walk away, hauling his luggage in tow. It was bittersweet that after discovering this new flame, we’d have to nurture it apart. My face was downturned toward the carpeted floor of the terminal gate when all of a sudden I heard a loud thump against the glass that separated the boarding passengers from the rest. My eyes widened.

Against the glossy gleam of the glass, Tooru plastered the wide white screen of his tablet for me to see. On it, he wrote, “Don’t ghost me this time.”

As many onlookers were confused, I couldn’t help but curl my lips a little higher than usual. I reach out to my phone and proceed to dial. A muffled ring could be heard against the glass. Tooru picks up. I take a deep breath before I shout into the device, “Just get on the plane already!”, reassuring him I wouldn’t have thought it as an option.

Once the plane took off, I heard a ping of my phone. Tooru sent several real estate contacts and appointments to my phone. _‘And the work begins.’_ As I amble off, I began calling numbers of agents that could help schedule on site visits to these apartments. Luckily, I was able to book some appointments the next day.

It was a Sunday and I was strolling to the first real estate Tooru and his sister looked up for us. It was perfectly situated five blocks away from my work, three blocks away from a commercial center and bordered by scenic parks on both sides. The neighborhood was quiet and quaint. I smiled, gripping the faxed directions from the agent. _‘Seems like an awfully good start.’_

As I amble away to turn a corner, I spot a familiar face. In front of a shop, a raven-haired young man could be seen embracing the form of another, but taller, raven-haired man. The smaller was none other than Akaashi. He lifted his gaze towards the taller man and plunged his lips into his. I didn’t want to jump into conclusions, but, as I disappeared into the corner, I couldn’t help thinking _‘What’s worse? Death or betrayal?’_


	4. The Sight of Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holidays is the perfect time to spend with your loved one. However, Bokuto realizes his holidays may not be spend doing that. Much like the cold and frigid landscapes of winter, his marriage is turning out quite empty. What is Akaashi to do with the equally hard revelation that maybe he, himself, is the problem. Much like the season, marriage is a stage when things are covered in snow.

**The Sight of Winter**

**Bokuto**

Raven black. I blink to the sight of soft and silky raven black hair that I’ve furrowed my nose into. I smile and take a deep whiff of the short strands against my nostrils. They were thick with the scent of honey and flowers. I groan. There’s something about scents that’s so physically alluring. I instinctively dip my nose further into the musk of the mane until I notice how hard I was digging into the scalp. The gesture prompted the exasperated grunt of the owner of the fine tresses- Akaashi Keiji.

The raven-haired man turned on his side facing me this time. I smile. If you were to ask me what my favorite part of the day is, it would be the morning. It’s the time I have the up close and personal view of Keiji’s most candid expressions. Without wakefulness placing the man into awareness, Keiji’s delicate and pale face would malleably contort to all kinds of forms according to the mood and situation as he woke. This time, he was slightly annoyed. Draping his arms around my neck, he crinkled his eyes a few times before batting his long lashes open to my face. His brows furrowed as his raven eyes gave me a bothered look. He scowled. “Kotaro.” He says in a soft whisper of his drowsy voice. “Hm.” I look down as he nuzzles his chin on the fringe of my collar bone, inching the rest of his body closer. The motion sent my insides warm and fuzzy. I decide to help him out. From being wrapped across his torso, my arms slide gently down the blouse of his pajamas down to his waist. I give it a slight pull, admittedly to my groin.

“Kotaro.” He says louder in a displeased tone. “It’s too early.”

“Sorry. I just wanted you to be closer.”

He snorts with a smile. I know because I know what a snort with a smile sounds like. He’s done it too many times. He moves closer again willing that our bodies wouldn’t be separated by an inch. He slowly slides his slender leg in between the two of mine, teasingly, but gently, rubbing against my inner thigh. _‘Ugh! This would be so much better naked.’_ I resentfully make a mental note to try sleeping naked instead of using my usual sweats. Then, maybe I could also convince Keiji to stop wearing his pajamas to bed. He rubs his leg a bit higher this time. The motion sent a slight shiver to my spine. I raise a brow at the man.

“Keiji, I thought you said it was too early.”

He only replies by tightening his hold on my neck and snuggling his head at the nook between my chin and chest. He groans and takes a deep breath of what was left of the musk I placed last night. It physically soothes him as a bit of his shoulders relax down and his lone leg, instead of going up, slides down the length of mine. _‘Still better if we were naked, but I’ll take it.’_ I prop my chin upon the top of his raven head and snuggle with him in unison.

This is why I love mornings. Well to be more precise, holiday mornings.

Unfortunately, that was going to change.

Amidst our morning breakfast, Keiji received a call. I raised a brow while wolfing down one of Keiji’s waffles. His slight change of facial expression spelled trouble. His neatly trimmed brows carefully hitched up, his thin lips widened into a flat line and his eyes sharply narrowed towards the distance. After years of having been married to the guy, I could tell Keiji was once again frustrated. I shoved another fork of waffles into my mouth awaiting the turn of events over the phone.

I already knew who was on the other line just by the uncharacteristic sagging of Keiji’s usually graceful shoulders. It was Udai-san. “Tch.” I mumble to myself while chewing on Keiji’s cooking.

I happily proposed to Keiji and spent the following years together as a married couple. I pursued professional volleyball, while Keiji pursued literature. It was Keiji’s first year in the publishing company and though he wasn’t assigned to the literature department he wanted, it didn’t change any of our plans at all. _‘However,’_ Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at the once elegant man that’s been reduced into a fidgeting mess by a single call. I turn my head to the stacks of manga piled along our television set. _‘This kind of lifestyle wasn’t in the plan.’_ Because of his work as a manga editor or, specifically, as Udai-san’s manga editor, Keiji has been preoccupied busying himself with drafts, writing more reports and visiting the creative staff.

Udai-san is going too far. I furrow my brows at the thought that Keiji might be roped into work because of that man’s lack of diligence. More importantly, I furrow my brows even harder at the thought that Udai-san may just come in the way of my perfect Christmas romance with Keiji.

Ping. He drops the phone.

I smile and look up at Keiji expectantly, hoping he’d throw a pile of complaints against Udai-san. Instead, I was met with a bittersweet “Sorry. I have to go.”

Immediately, Keiji stood up, dashed to the bedroom and closed the door.

“What!” I solidly slammed both my palms against the table. It was a moment too late to deliver my displeasure at the whole situation. I decided to approach the matter. I walked steadily to the door and swung the panel open.

“Are you kidding me?” I say gesturing both hands towards him at every word. The man was almost done unbuttoning his light blue pajama shirt when he replied with a quizzical look.

“I told you, I have to go.” He accomplishes completely unbuttoning the blouse and slides the fabric off his pale unblemished skin, allowing the faint lines of muscle and bone to be seen. I plop down on the bed directly behind him, still angry, but slightly turned on by the spectacle of my husband’s half-naked torso.

He sifts through the sweaters of our wardrobe closet, leaning into the cabinetry and sporting his cute little bum to me. I roll my eyes, still turned on but not happy at the matter. I hear a rustle. He’s picked out a thick knitted taupe sweater and slides the material upon his skin. I cup my head with both hands, leaning forward at the weirdly normal, but elegant show of Keiji putting on clothes. I huff. “My husband should be taking off clothes now, not putting them on.”

He laughs while exchanging his pajama bottoms for thick, black denim pants. He easily hikes up the hard material unto his waist, zips and buttons it with quick ease. He gives me a teasing glance. “It’s just this one time.”

“You keep saying it’s this one time when-“ I look at the side and clasp my hands against my spread legs, hoping it would quiet down the rush of irritation. “It’s the Christmas season!” I throw my hands up in the air not being able to inhibit anymore emotion.

He giggles. With my face still in a pout, I feel delicate fingers pat and comb through my hair. I look up. Keiji’s lips are curled. His hands slip from the unruly strands of my flat bedhead and to the rough sides of my face, cupping my cheeks tenderly and making them warm. He swiftly bends down and tilts his head to the side to leave a peck on my lips. Though it was brief, the supple touch of our lips brings a blush to my face and warms my stomach instantly. He smiles at the effect he still has on me even after three years. His black pupils memorizes the image of my face, taking in my wide-eyed stare.

“We have plenty of time to make up for it after.” He winks. “For now, Udai-san needs me.”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Click.

Just like that, Keiji walks out of our bedroom. I drop my wide-eyed stare to the floor with a heavy breath. I sourly pull myself up to stand. _‘Let’s at least bid him goodbye at the door.’_ I resentfully drag my feet out of our cozy and dim bedroom to the living room dipped in warm morning sunlight. I snap my head to the doorway.

Fumbling with his shoes, he was clad with an olive green coat that hemmed above his knees. He leaned against the doorway, troubled at the slim fit of his grey shoe. He stomped at the floor. Thud. He stomped once more. Thud. Then, he looked my way, reassuring me that he’ll return. _‘Even if he does, it’s like he’s barely there.’_

I begrudgingly cross my arms as the bubble of my Christmas fantasies burst into nothingness. _‘I don’t know about other people, but when I want something, I can’t help but at least try to go after it.’_ Keiji places a hand on the door knob. The click of the metal triggers me to smack the door panel down. I swiftly place both arms against the door, caging him with the breadth of my torso, expressing my dislike of the situation.

“Kotaro.” He says with a displeased tone. He turns his head to face mine, showing a good deal of his arched brow. I flash a smirk and slide my hands from the door panel and into the slender curve of his waist. I crane my head unto his shoulder and lean into his ear to whisper, “Let me say goodbye properly.” 

I retrieve my head to properly tilt it. He bashfully follows tilting the other way thinking this was just to say goodbye. We gently lock our lips together, this time longer and lovingly. I pull away briefly to swiftly lick my lips before plunging back into the curves of his. They press against each other. Keiji does so gently. I do so roughly. The difference of intentions are most seen when my force makes Keiji dip his head back while my tongue makes a swipe for his lips. The motion leaves his mouth agape momentarily and I jump on the opportunity to slip into his mouth.

Unwittingly, I just revealed to Keiji that I had no plans of letting him go. His hands now grip on my shoulders trying to fetter me down. Of course, it wouldn’t. _‘I just want a little more.’_ Then, the motions begin as I slip my tongue in and out through the nooks and crevices of his mouth until even Keiji’s head dips and rises according to my tongue, never letting even a millimeter come against our lips. It’s only after a while that he grips tighter against my shirt, digging his nails unto my skin, until he pushes me away breathlessly. I see his chest rise and fall from panting. _‘I wanted to go so much farther.’_ However, Keiji didn’t look like he would permit it.

“Kotaro!” He says sternly as he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “What is this? I need to go!”

 _‘I need to go?’_ The thought struck a nerve. Like a massive dam cracking open. The pent emotions I’ve been holding down spilled out like a furious flood. “Can you give me a break? If it’s not work, it’s fatigue. If it’s not exhaustion, it’s time. We’ve been like this for the past year. This holiday season is one of the few times we both can afford to really spend together!” I stand wide-eyed from my own outburst.

I gaze at the obscured face of Keiji. His back towards me like a hollow figure. I try to reach out to apologize, but once he sensed my movement he snapped his body towards my direction and gave me a cold and serious stare that freezes me in place. _‘Shit.’_

“Goodbye Kotaro.”

Slam.

He goes out the door leaving me alone with my horny guilt.

“Argh!” I plummet my bum unto the couch as I mull over how the morning went. I ruffle my head on both sides, twisting and turning the flat mane into the horned hair I was known for. No gel needed just anguish. My hand darts for the nearest cushion and I proceed to plunge my face into its soft fabric. Not once, but several times. I muffle half of my face as I willingly say what’s been going through my head throughout the year. “Marriage is more than sex, but I damn I miss it!”

I throw the innocent cushion over the coffee table once I exploded. I lift my legs up into the couch curling myself into a giant ball that would cradle my tiny overwhelmed head.

“Tch.” I hiss at myself for ruining a really good morning with my _wants_. I look up to the ceiling thinking that even if Udai-san called, I shouldn’t have made a fuss over it. After all, this was Keiji’s work. This was his pride and joy. _‘However-‘_

I reach for the remote on the white clandestine coffee table. _‘The whole routine of him slipping late into the evening and leaving early in the morning for work doesn’t give much breathing space for action in the bed. It’s already been a year since we last did it.’_

I flip on the television, hoping it would drown my thoughts. _‘Is it wrong to think about these things when the marriage is doing so great?’_

The fact is it’s the Christmas season and you’d expect love to be in the air.

I drop my head down in a scowl. My fractured ego was internally crying. To be fairly honest, one of the reasons I looked forward to Christmas was because it afforded me time away from the hustle and bustle of training. I could sleep in during this time and that meant sleeping in with Keiji! I could wrap him in my arms into the morning and snuggle into his neck until I was drowned in his scent. I could stroke his hair and play with it in the bed until he willed himself up for breakfast. I’d imagine a cute and romantic morning everyday spent making waffles, bacon and eggs. Then, we’d chat through the whole morning about our dreams of each other. We could do some seasonal cleaning, decorating and shopping hand-in-hand. Then, we could even go on a late evening dinner out for two where we could dress up and hit up a fancy restaurant. We’d feed each other food and drink wine to our heart’s content.

Finally, once we got home, intoxicated by both alcohol and romance, we’d have hot, messy sex that would leave an unforgettable experience for us. Rinse and repeat everyday throughout the holiday season. _‘Or so I thought.’_

I gently place my feet down to the floorboards as I leaned far back into the couch’s back rest. I let out an exasperated sigh as I left my arms limp on both sides. _‘Is this what the death of a dream is like?’_

I look towards the ceiling hoping that Santa Claus could hear me through the concrete. “I just want my Christmas fantasy.”

I resign twisting my head towards the balcony window of our living room. The glass was fogged up by the mist of the cold morning and the creeping crystalline patterns on its edges. Upon closer inspection, the world outside of the apartment was completely white.

Very few signs of life. Very few motions. Very white.

I grunt deciding that sulking wasn’t going to do anything. I pick myself up, clean the dishes and make a call. Maybe he could help me calm down. I cup the device to my ear, hearing the usual dial ring, until someone picked up. My eyes widen with excitement at the familiar voice.

“Hey let me come over!”

* * *

“Bro!”

“Bro!”

“Bro.”

“Bro.”

“Bro?”

“Bro?”

Smack.

Tsuki angrily plants a ceramic tea tray on top of the dining table, signaling his irritation. He gives the both us a stern look. He says, with a voice tinged with much frustration for the lack of diverse dialogue in the conversation, “Can you two form whole sentences already?”

We both shrink a little furrowing our brows. “Sorry.” We manage in unison.

In the heat of the moment, I decided to visit the home of Tsuki and Kuroo. It was a bit far off from where Keiji and I resided, but seeing my best friend was always worth it.

We did a little fist bump after waving goodbye to Tsuki who left to do the groceries. Kuroo was dressed in a loose white shirt and striped green lounge pants. For once, his bedhead didn’t stand out against his attire. Grabbing the edge of their dining table, Kuroo pushes himself into the dining chair’s back rest. Then, thoughtfully, he crosses his arms against his chest, waiting for me to explain the situation.

I tell my side of the story until he’s fully satisfied with the information to digest. He takes a deep breath and says, “Well, it’s not that you don’t love each other. It’s more of you just want more.”

I frown and proceed to sigh slowly planting the side of my face unto the tabletop’s surface. “Do you think it’s stupid?” I lift my eyes to meet Kuroo’s.

“Hm. Sex isn’t the most important thing in a relationship, but-” He drops the hand that’s been cupping his chin and beams a tight curled smirk. “It’s still important.”

I let out a tired breath and close my eyes to soothe my head. “I hate myself. I am scum of society. I just want to hold, touch and make Keiji feel good like that. Shit. I miss it.” Still keeping my forehead unto the table, I turn away from Kuroo’s face, ashamed at the reduced immoral and lustful lump of muscle that I am.

“I really am horrible for thinking this way.”

“Hey there-“ I feel Kuroo’s short and successive pats in an attempt to comfort me. He hums, “even if sex is one of the most physical and superficial expressions of love, it is still an expression of love.” He drops his hand and props an elbow up to cradle his head as he looked at a distance beyond my form.

“Because of news and media, sex is a highly scandalized topic. They talk about it in whispers and low voices when in reality, at some point, especially in a married relationship, you will have to encounter it. We romanticize and put love on a pedestal. Yet, we’re so easy to dismiss the equally important role os sex like some weed in the undergrowth. Some people do it for fun. Some people do it to have a child. Most often than not, some people do it so show how much they love a person. Is it really a lesser version of love just because you want to be that much close to the person you find most precious?”

Slowly, I lift my obscured face from the table and snapped my head to Kuroo. The motion made him straighten in place. I cried. “Kuroo!” I take off from my seat to launch a hug unto the guy. “Thank you for the validation! I really felt like scum of the earth just because I wanted to make love to Keiji every night!”

From being frozen in place, Kuroo resigned to returning my bear hug, patting me every so often as I sobbed. Then, he broke away giving me a full view of his serious face.

“Bokuto. You have to remember, though, that sex is something between two people. You do it with consent with Akaashi and you two do it safely.” He flicks my forehead making me fall back into my seat. “Just because you want something, doesn’t mean you should have it. You have to respect Akaashi’s wishes too.”

And that was the hard part because I didn’t know Keiji’s wishes.

“I know.” I groan. “It’s just that both our work has been getting in the way. I train so hard day and night and Keiji does the same with his line of work.”

Kuroo raises his brow. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t expect this. You guys are getting into your third year of marriage. The honeymoon phase has passed.” Kuroo begins to thumb his chin looking concerned at my state. “With regards to his work, though, is he doing alright? Not overworking himself to death I hope.”

I wave off the concern. “No. He really enjoys it and willingly puts himself through extra hours.” I imagined how the hard-working Keiji who would voluntarily spend hours with me to practice volleyball exercise the same amount of passion into his work. Though his work has been a thorn in my sex life, I can’t say that it doesn’t fill me with much pride to see Keiji pour himself out like that for something he believes in.

“Publishing is his pride and glory.”

Kuroo blows a high whistle. “Well then-“ He places his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll have to directly talk to him about this.”

_‘Talk to him about wanting sex?’_

I blush red, releasing faint wisps of steam through my ears, at the thought having to sit down with Keiji to talk about how badly I want to do it.

“What?” I crack an awkward smile.

Kuroo props his head up again and proceeds to count on his finger. “Think about it. One, you’ve been married for three years and past the honeymoon phase. You’re supposed to have these honest heart-to-heart conversations. Yes. Sex talk is included. Two, both of you are working adults. Your time and schedule for each other has changed since university. You can’t rely on getting in the mood whenever and wherever. You don’t have that same energy anymore. You got to plan these things. Three, Bokuto-“

He drops his hand this time and gazes at me with a brotherly fondness. “Akaashi isn’t a mind-reader.”

When he said all those things, I couldn’t help but feel my head spin a bit from the amount of information to process. I look towards the window beyond him, hoping it would feign comprehension.

Even if we were districts away from where I lived, it was snowing just as much here. The window showed a landscape dipped in endless and empty white. Nothing much to see.

I sigh. “Okay, I get it.” I surrender both arms against my chest, taking in Kuroo’s word of advice. “I’ll talk to Keiji.” I release an audible gulp while imagining having to explain to the intellectual and well-mannered Keiji how much I want to do it.

He snorts. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s normal.” He grabs the handle of the ceramic teapot and begins pouring an amount of green tea into his cup.

“It’s normal to think that because your love feels so right, that you’re partnered or married with the right person, you wouldn’t need to have to explain yourself.” He sips on the tea making a soft slurp. “However, that’s the thing about marriage. You’ll get disillusioned once you realize that in spite of so many years together, another human still will never be able to fully figure you out. I guess that’s why most young people feel so anxious about marriage. How would you know if the person you’re with was the right person?” He looked away despondently.

It was my turn to be concerned. Kuroo’s lips fell flatly on his face and his eyes had a depth of sadness in it.

“Hey are you okay?”

“Bokuto.”

I perked up at the sudden call of my name. Kuroo then proceeded to turn his head my way, staring with cool and nonchalant eyes.

“I’ve been with Kei for years now and I’ve been thinking that I want to marry him.”

My heart bursts at the knowledge. I’ve always loved Kuroo like a brother and his feelings for Kei has been nothing but incessant. His affection and admiration are all things I’ve seen grow in the years between the two of them. As being one of the early witnesses of this relationship, I couldn’t help but gush at the possibility that this, once little seedling of a first love, could turn into the full blossom of marriage. “Oh that’s great! I was always thinking that it was about time-“

“It’s just-“ He cuts in turning the air cold. “I don’t know if we would be right for each other.”

I arch a brow up as my image of the happy couple cracks a little bit. “Huh?”

“What if by asking him to marry me, I would be ruining the really good thing we already have going for us?”

As Kuroo continued babbling on about his list of insecurities, my eyes widened with every passing second at a sudden realization.

_‘No matter how cool, smart or wise Kuroo is, he still is that boy who cried himself to sleep whenever he’d hear his parents fight. He’s still the kid who had to watch the unraveling of his parents’ marriage into divorce firsthand. He’s still the guy who’s afraid to make the same mistake they did.’_

I smile. Among the many problems I’ve created and encountered this morning, this is one of the few things I know how to deal with.

“Bro!” I cut in through his litany of fears, placing a firm hand upon his shoulder. “You waited 10 years to tell Tsuki you loved him. Don’t tell me you’re going wait for another 10 years to ask him to marry you!”

“Well, I was considering it.”

I rolled my eyes as I blew an exasperated breath. _‘What would you do without me?’_

* * *

It was Christmas of three years ago. Keiji had just finished all his requirements for the semester and I was waiting for him outside his department’s faculty room. Leaning against the wall, I felt like a thick lug of layers. I had a thermal shirt, a sports shirt and a black jumper under the jacket of my volleyball jersey. It made me feel even more self-conscious when I received looks and stares from several students passing by the hallways. After all, I didn’t look the type to belong in the literature department. I looked down the tip of my running shoes. _‘I don’t look like I belong at all.’_

Finally, the door swung open. The person who came out was a beautiful raven-haired man with fair skin and a graceful poise to himself. He looked at me and smiled gently. His eyes were like hypnotic black orbs. They take you in to leave you breathless and senseless of your surroundings. I flash a smile stifling my excitement that this beautiful man was mine for the rest of the holidays. I took one step forward. One step at a time. _‘That’s what I tell myself, but-‘_

I couldn’t fight the urge. I ended up running up towards Keiji with open arms, probably tackling him with my speed, weight and strength.

“Ugh!” He groaned quietly in my bear-like embrace. In spite of wincing at the pain, he’d make sure to show me a smile. Then, I’d smile too. At some point, I didn’t know whose smile was infectious anymore. It was always like that between the two of us- moving, orbiting and pivoting around the other.

Keiji was tapped on my arm to signal me to let go. “Oh sorry! I held on too long!” I release the man by surrendering my arms up causing Keiji to almost fall limp. He waves it off and pats down the creases on his brown overcoat.

The fine texture of the fabric was well-carried by his lean frame. It created structure, cuts and lines that accentuated Keiji’s unrecognized athletic build. Moreover, the coat made him very princely against the ordinary backdrop of the university halls.

He looks softly on me with his usual poker face. “It’s fine. Sometimes you just forget your own strength.” His eyes then leave my gaze and search around the area, noticing the other eyes on us. His calm demeanor slightly morphs into slight irritation at the signal of his furrowed brows.

“Kotaro-“ He calls my attention. “Let’s get out of here.” He expertly slips his hand into mine and pulls me through the department hallways, through the crowd of onlookers and, maybe, through the air of gossip. 

Outside of the university, we calmly trudge through the snow, holding hands and brushing arms against each other. When we’re far enough from the university grounds, Keiji lets out a tried breath. “I’m sorry.” I raise a brow questioningly. “I’m sorry for the stares you got back there.” His often nonchalant face had a tinge of sadness. I hated it. It doesn’t suit Keiji at all.

He averts my eyes to the white winter landscape before us.

Tokyo was beautifully dipped in white. The rough concrete pavement turned glassy wet on the surface. You’d have to keep steady for every step you took, planting your foot solidly against slickness to only lift it up just as steadily for the next step. However, the shops looked very warm. The yellow and orange lights of the interior beamed like beacons of refuge to many pedestrians of the district. Its warm light seeped through their shop glasses that started to fog up at its edges with intricate snowflake patterns.

When you looked up, canopies of trees have become fully bald. If not, then most had its leave turn a pale light green shade that agreed with the whiteness of the backdrop. They too had to carry the burden of winter with the piles and lumps of snow weighing on its branches.

I smile. I wasn’t sure what the stares were for, but I had a fair idea that they weren’t kind. After all, it wasn’t the first time I’ve encountered those kinds of stares. From high school and even until now, people still wonder how such a prim and proper guy like Keiji ended up as a friend and, even, a lover with me. If I had to be honest, we weren’t what people would call a good match.

The first thing Keiji does to start his day is sip tea. There’s a way with how Keiji sips tea. He wouldn’t let a single motion go to waste. From preparing the tea leaves to bringing the cup to faint pink lips, he’d execute each step gracefully, like an expert of the Japanese tea ceremony. After that ritual, he gladly puts on his black rimmed specs and starts cooking his own breakfast. He was more of a mother than a chef when it came to the kitchen. It wasn’t anything luxurious or exquisite to the taste, but more of caring and considerate to the nature of your tastes. Then, he gets ready for the day wearing blouses and dress shirts to class.

He’s a diligent student, the type that takes notes even when the teacher says you don’t need to. Writing isn’t a waste on him because, just like his face, his cursive writing is beautiful. I don’t particularly like reading, but, if it’s Keiji’s writing, I would read a whole book just to see the work of my boyfriend page after page.

After class, he frequents the antique book shops for rare finds and collects porcelain dinner and tea sets as a hobby. To Keiji, old things that hold memories and feelings of people are important. It’s this very notion of communicating these emotions that drive Keiji to literature. He wants to one day tell stories to help people remember, help people know and, most of all, help people hope. That’s why he puts himself to sleep through reading the works of Haruki Murakami and Kazuo Ishiguro, the people he feels these things with.

On the other side of the coin was me. I was indelicate and rough, preferring to start my day with a jolt of energy but downing one or two cups of coffee with plenty of sugar. I really had not self-restraint, most especially when I’m in a mood.

Among the piles of clothes in my closet, I’d snatch any clean shirt or sweater with some nice ripped jeans without much of second look. Deliberating wasn’t my strong point, but making a decision then and there most definitely was. I’d carry my neon blue sports bag, slinging it to the side as my pride and glory as the university ace, pumping my chest out now and again. Admittedly, I would do that more to show off to Keiji than any other person because his opinion was the most important. If I could make him beam full of pride for me, then I would be just as happy as any billionaire.

Unfortunately, bringing a sports bag meant the lugging it through all my classes so I’d always opt to stay at the back row often. The back row is always fun. It’s where the most interesting people are. I’d meet all these noisy people and hear their late night stories about drinking, trips and love. Classes were always hell of a blast with them. We wouldn’t get the high marks, but we did have fun and I always made good friends. However, they would never be as good of a company like that of Keiji’s.

After school, I was off to train. University volleyball was my stepping stone to play in the big leagues so I’d push myself sweating through all the drills and practices hoping it would get me closer to playing professional. Then, when I got home, I’d just plop into bed and doze off without a hitch.

Keiji and I couldn’t be any more different.

However, being with Keiji gives me a reason to look forward to the day. I wake up better, even without coffee. I attempt to wear his recommended fashion sense for university. I don’t like it, but I try for him. I also try studying harder, going on study dates with Keiji in between classes and training so I could make him proud that I didn’t that just swing through university on my athletic scholarship and privileges. Then, before I do drop dead on my bed, I always make sure to give him a call that I am alive and breathing and that I love him.

We aren’t a good match, but maybe we’re good for each other.

I turn my head to Keiji, pumping my fist into the air. “I don’t care. As long as I’m with Keiji, I’m good.” I squeeze his hand, reassuring him that there’s no ego to tend to. “Instead, we should figure out what fun we could do on our Christmas break! In fact, let’s start today!” I let go of his hands to momentarily throw them up to the sky, showing the sky’s the limit for what we plan the season to bring.

He giggles timidly. “Always so spontaneous, huh?” However, he plays along anyway. Cupping his chin thoughtfully, he lifts his eyes to the sky brainstorming an activity that would be enjoyable for our diametrically opposed personalities. _‘Thinking. Yes I leave that to you Keiji.’_ I joke to myself.

“Ah.”

“Oh you have an idea already?” I stare wide-eyed.

“Well, there’s been something I’ve always been meaning to do now that it’s winter. Maybe you’d be interested too.”

“Oh what’s that?” I coo.

An hour later, I find myself at the Urban Dock Lalaport Toyuso. It’s a port shopping complex with a 360 square meter ice rink overlooking the frozen sea.

“Oof.” It was also colder than average because it was so close to the touchdown of winter winds.

“Sorry Kotaro. Maybe we should have gone with a warmer activity.”

Still hugging myself, I shook my head vigorously. “No way! You wanted to ice skate, then we’ll ice skate. What’s a little cold to me anyway?”

He smiles.

We go around the back of the ice rink where we pay and register for skating. Keiji points me to the other side, bidding me to pick up our skates, while he waits for the ticket bands. I amble into the shoe-changing area eyeing another staff member beside a rack of skates.

“Excuse me! Yes, hello! Could I get one size 11 and one size 8?” He hands with me the skating boots.

“Here with your girlfriend?” The man happily inquires.

“You could say that.” I take the booths and hear the light footsteps of boots. I turn my head and see Keiji just enter the changing room.

“Oh.”

I clearly heard it from the staff and looked back to proudly point my boyfriend to him. However, he’s left the counter busying himself with skates in the back room. _‘Gone so quick?’_

I snap back to Keiji as he takes a seat and pats the spot next to him. I carry the skates towards him.

“I have to say it’s impressive that you can’t remember your dorm’s room number, but you can remember my shoe size.” I laugh nervously. “It’s called selective memory Keiji!” I poke back.

However, while I was tying my shoe laces, it only dawned on me that this was, in fact, my first time to skate.

Keiji was sliding through the ice gracefully with practiced precision. His feet would hit the glassy surface with much stability, rhythm and speed that he could practically skate without looking. Even other onlookers stared at him wide-eyed at his skill. Some may have even developed crushes on him at first sight. _‘I know I would.’_

I, on the other hand, quietly gripped at the rim of rink while I sidestepped with my shoe blades. Chink. Chink. Chink. Passing skaters looked at me warily, instinctively knowing what trouble would look like. I furrow my brows at my unfortunate image.

I heard a laugh. Twirling and sliding in the middle of the ice like a delicate snow owl was Keiji. He stopped teasing me with his twirls and stood on the ice smirking from afar. “Are you enjoying the view of me?” I holler trying to be funny, but still gripping at the rim and carefully tapping through the ice so as to not fall. He lets out a louder laugh. He slides through a couple of skaters and, then, towards my side with such few motions that it seemed like he was simply floating on air. “I’m sorry.” He halfhearted conceals a smile with his fingers while sporting a faint blush. He extends his dainty pale hand out to me as a peace offering. “Let me properly teach you how to skate, before you hate the whole thing.” He smirks from under his fluttering lashes.

I extend my rough, calloused hands and brush skin with his. “Please be patient with me Keiji.” I cry out because I already knew that it was going to be a long day.

Showing off his expert skill on ice, he pulls me towards the middle of the rink by skating backwards. He’s so confident that he rarely looks back and keep his raven eyes on mine, reassuring me he wouldn’t let me fall. Unfortunately, he was dealing with Bokuto Kotaro. Brushing against Keiji’s flawlessly smooth skin heightens an awareness of the affection transferred by intertwining fingers, by the tightened grip and the mere sustained contact.

As soon as we reached the middle, my legs felt limp from fear and fell down on its own. To be fair, I would say it was more because my heart racing against by ribcage than skating at all. “Kotaro!” He said as he started to laugh. “Relax your legs! You have to use your core to help balance you out.” He gently grabs my arm and lifts me back on my two feet. He holds unto my arms, more to steady me than to steady him. I gladly accept the manhandling as the fuzzy and warm feeling of my chest leave my lower body very useless. My legs start to wobble once more.

“Let’s start again.” He says.

30 minutes into the lesson, Keiji only manages to teach me how to skate a few meters from place. Clasping my hands unto his arm, I wobble from one meter to another. Keiji smiles in such a way that I feel that my inadequacy may actually be appealing to him. At that moment, I wondered if this was how being cute felt like- being fawned and cared for tenderly in spite and because of your weaknesses. If so, I think I’d like to be cute more often, especially if that’s in front of Keiji.

All of a sudden, Keiji removes my hands from his arms and, instead, takes both my rough palms in his, intertwining them gently and lovingly. The brush of his hands made me blush a little. It’s one thing to be terribly affectionate privately or between ourselves. It’s another thing to have such skinship publicly as so. If not only for the other pairs of eyes on us, I would have enjoyed having Keiji’s hands linger on mine. However, Keiji and I were not alone. The same goes for my self-consciousness.

_‘Are they together?’_

_‘They don’t look like a couple.’_

_‘Why would such a refined fellow be with a rugged man like that?’_

The thoughts pile upon many I’ve had before. However, what no one else knows is that I have a secret weapon when I do encounter these thoughts.

I look at Keiji. The white sunlight softly gleams on his supple skin as it stretches against the high curl of his mouth. His eyes squint from the smile making his feeling even more apparent. If Keiji is happy, then I’m happy. We continue skating on despite the looks and whispers. As long as this raven-haired beauty is with me, I wouldn’t have anything to fret about.

We tire ourselves out and decide to leave the skating rink for dinner. We opt to dine at the alfresco area to bask in the view of the frozen sea.

“You practically can’t see anything. It’s all ice and white snow.”

“Hm. It is, but-“ Keiji takes a sip from his hot tea after finishing his last slice of chicken. “I like how still and tranquil the landscape is.”

“What?” I pout.

“I think it’s better to have some action at least.”

He laughs off my comment. “Kotaro, not everything is about something happening.”

I’d beg to differ, but I chose to pout some more instead, wanting to be cute to him again. He was about to laugh, when a presence called our attention.

“Keiji?” We both turn our heads to young woman our age, dressed in a sophisticated fur coat. _‘I hope that’s faux fur.’_ A white winter jumpsuit and black knee-high heeled boots. She flipped her auburn waves to the side. “Oh my god, it really is you!” Her pink painted lips curled into a smirk. “I couldn’t believe it was you from the back. Your company here doesn’t seem to be company I’d thought you would take to.” She eyes me with her sharp emerald eyes.

“Do you want me to rescue you?” She teases.

Her word stung, but, being the socially adept one, I knew when to let things go or when to take them seriously. I was about to chime in a laugh when I turned my gaze to Keiji. His smile turned into a flat line and his eyes narrowed at the woman before us, piercing with an apparent irritation. In short, he was not amused.

“Kinomoto-san, I think what you said was very offensive.” He gracefully stands from his seat, towering over the woman. “You haven’t even allowed the man to introduce himself and you’re already making snide comments.”

“Keiji-“ I was about to cut in, not wanting to have the day ruined by a bad joke.

He immediately placed a hand before my face, silencing me in a second, before returning to the confused and flustered woman. She was fidgeting with her toes, kicking the front of her boot against the floor boards.

“Akaashi, it was just a joke.”

“Regardless, a bad joke done in bad taste. See-“ He slides both hands unto my wide shoulders, slipping his finger on top of the curved ball of muscle. “This is my boyfriend and I’ll have none of your elitist point of views when it comes to him.”

The woman’s face turns a rosy red as her eyes widen at the declaration of war against her. “I’m not the only one who thinks this though! The whole literature department does too!”

_‘I knew it.’_

“And the literature department isn’t Bokuto Kotaro.” He waves his hand off to the woman signaling her exit. “I couldn’t give my two cents.”

I already knew how different Keiji and I were. I knew the stark contrasts we display especially when we’re at each other’s side. There’s nothing wrong with being so different. However, after being compared to now and again, sometimes different starts sounding like wrong. _‘Is being two completely different people mean we were completely wrong for one another too?’_

However, in that moment that Akaashi Keiji chose to defend me, I knew that he was the man I wanted to marry.

_‘Maybe we’ve had it wrong all this time. It’s not about who’s right for you to marry, as if there’s a list of qualifications that would make them so. Maybe it’s about who you would still choose to marry in spite of the many reasons they would be wrong.’_

I smile as Keiji successfully shoos the girl away from our romantic evening date. He quickly turns to me, pats his coat down and proceeds to surprise me by gracefully bending before my face and sweetly dipping his lips into mine.

_‘If that’s the case, I wouldn’t mind getting it wrong with Keiji and working with it.’_

* * *

**Akaashi**

I slam the door on Kotaro and lean against the metal door until my weight carefully slides my bum unto the floor. I clasp my palm to my forehead while calming down my nerves.

“Tch.”

I needed to get to work. With much strength, I pulled myself up and ambled away from the door, knowing I was also walking away from a very hurt Kotaro. I recall how his golden eyes lost light and his dark pupils darted about me looking for an explanation. All I could say was I need to go to work.

It hurt me to see how a glassy film slowly covered his eyes and how he unexpectedly raised his voice because Kotaro may be emotional, however, he is reasonable.

I make a stop at a convenience store, ride the train and arrive at work. When I mean work what I actually mean is the condominium building of the manga artist I was working for. I heave a sigh. _‘Here’s another guy giving me such a hard time in the morning.’_ I trudge in.

With memorized precision and force of habit, I don’t give the condominium estate much of a look and rush through the doors. However, to say there was nothing to see with regards to the building would be a mistake. Unlike the average condominium estate, Udai-san’s residence was a bit more upscale.

The building was built with beautifully matte painted structural steel that morphed easily with its jutting façade like second skin. The vertical envelope would create beautiful and interesting shadows upon the white marble floors of its high-ceiling lobby and the pristine glass of the overlooking interior courtyard. Accents of gold, silver and bronze would meet your line of sight, at every turn with, its veritably European furniture. Indeed, the clandestine environment was a far cry from the man that I was going to meet- Udai Tenma.

I arrive at the front of his door. The panel was a beautiful beech white wood decorated with golden knobs and hinges. I heard ruffling from the other side and proceeded to straighten myself up before the peep hole to reassure the person on the other side that I wasn’t any crazy fan.

Click.

The door unlocked and open for only a tiny bit, showing that the space inside was engulfed in darkness as shadows peeked through the corners of the panel.

“Akaashi.” A raspy voice called out. I instantly froze up a bit by the chilling husk of the tone. The way the throat croaked broken sounds of breath daunted me. After a while, it called out again, this time enunciating the syllables of my name carefully like a demonic spell. “A-Ka-Ashi.” My name ended with another croak of broken sounds that made my blood curdle a little bit.

I turned my head down, gripping tightly to the strap of the convenience store plastic in one hand and the clasp of my suitcase in the other. I was squeezing them in intervals out of livid irritation than fear because, do or die, I couldn’t afford to put up with this with a looming deadline. _‘Oh get over it!_ ’ I fearlessly grabbed the edge of the panel with one hand and swung the door open, accidentally knocking the creeping form behind it. Once the light of the condominium hallways seeped through the space, I was able to see clearly the almost emaciated and disheveled form of the manga artist dressed in what I could have guessed would have been last week’s clothes.

I slap a palm to my face and quickly cover my nose upon sensing the sweat and tears of last week have clung to Udai-san disgustingly well.

I lift my gaze up to the rest of the studio to only be taken aback. Across the vast living room space were sets of drawing tables lined side-by-side were similar demons in the same situation as Udai-san. _‘All of them. All of the art staff were reduced into mindless zombies.’_ I had no one else to blame, but one person.

My raven eyes dart the back of the head of the raven-haired manga artist that started it all.

“Udai-san!”

The crawling figure is frozen in fear by the threatening tone of my call and turns nervously towards me, knowing that it wasn’t anything comforting.

He was right.

I threw my coat on the coat hanger by the side and flipped the light switch on in one fell swoop. The action prompted temporary blindness to many of the zombies as well as the usual groans of complaint. However, that can’t be helped. Stepping over the manga artist crawling by the doorway, I proceed to roll up my sleeves and lay my secret weapons on the table. They were called Inarizushi Onigiri. I made sure to buy two boxes of them, knowing that these creatives had a penchant at zoning into work, unbothered by the normal physical signs that one’s body gave to be replenished.

In a matter of an hour, the small studio was brought back to life with the packets of food and drinks I brought. Many of the staff were starting to resemble humans as a faint flush returned to their skin. I was terribly proud of myself, standing crossed arm at the scene of a revived studio. I talked to each one, giving them orders to take turns at the bathroom to change. There was no use for them to work if they couldn’t work properly at all.

“Uh-“

My head quickly snapped and my eyes darted ferociously at the man who approached. Of course, it was none other than Udai-san. I raised a brow as I towered over him, pulling all the stops to continue showing my utter disappointment at him.

It looked like he had finally taken a bath and changed. Udai-san had long wavy raven hair that stopped just below his shoulder blades. It was beautifully silky and slick after having just come from a shower. He was dressed in a purple jumper and light grey jogger pants. However, what was the most important was that he finally smelled like a human being with a dash of lavender.

My nose twitched at the traumatic memory of having smelled whatever garbage heap he was a while ago.

Then, he nervously fidgets his fingers while averting my gaze, darting his black eyes elsewhere behind me. “Uh, Akaashi-san, may I speak with you privately?”

I pout because I know whenever it’s just the two of us, I grow terribly soft for him.

Click.

He closes the door to his own private room to discuss. I remain standing and crossed arms at his bed’s side. His small form takes a deep breath before letting go of the door knob to face me. He walks towards his bed and proceeds to take a seat, clasping his hands and lifting the black orbs of his eye towards me.

“Akaashi-san-“ All of a sudden, he lifts himself off the bed and kneels on his carpeted floor.

My eyes widen.

In a second, he starts kowtowing towards me in successive pleading motions. “I’m so sorry Akaashi-san! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I really tried my best to meet the deadline, but-“ I could hear the whimper of his voice as he mustered much saliva to deliver those dry words. “One thing led to another and before I knew it, we were behind.” I sigh looking at the pitiful form of the creator.

“Udai-san.” I kneel right beside the cowering man, placing a comforting hand upon his back and coaxing a gentle smile. I couldn’t help but think that sometimes he reminded me so much of Kotaro. Kotaro would have his emotional mood swings and leave me in the dust having to deal with is. Sometimes he was just like this, helpless and sorry. Each time he was though, just like Udai-san, I could feel the gushing sincerity of his heart. He would never mean any harm.

“Don’t worry. I really understand. Now, please get up from here. The floor is no place for a world renowned manga artist.” I extend my hand to him and he takes it with a relieved look. We lift ourselves off the floor and continue the conversation sitting on his bed.

“I really do feel awful Akaashi-san. I ruined your morning and holiday vacation.”

I mischievously glanced at him, deciding he was in a good enough condition for a tease. “Yeah.” Throwing up my hands in the air, I addressed Udai-san in a mocking tone, “I was snuggling so close to my husband, and enjoying his romantic touches that could have gone for the whole day, if not for a single call.” I purse my lips towards him, giving him the finishing blow.

The manga artist’s face fell, as expected. Even though he was a few years older than me, he was terribly impressionable and gullible. It was a far contrast to his reputation as the little giant. However, this side of Udai-san was what made things easy for me to handle. After all, I’ve dealt many scenarios with Kotaro. Udai-san was more of a beginner-friendly level compared to Kotaro.

“Ah! I’m so sorry! You should be spending your day with him!” He cries out. He proceeds to close his eyes, bow his head and rub his hands against each other as a plea to portray his guilt.

“It’s fine.” I lightly laugh it off, having had enough of toying with the artist. “I think I needed distance from him anyway.” I look away into the distance recalling Kotaro’s odd outburst. He looked so angry. It was very rare for him to be angry. For all the massive energy reservoir he was, he was not the type to emotionally project things unto people carelessly. He was always patient and kind and, most of all, understanding. That brings his acting out all the more of a concern.

It wasn’t like it was the first time I had to leave all of a sudden. Or maybe it was the fact it wasn’t the first time. Admittedly, because it was my first year officially becoming a manga editor, work has placed me in quite a tumultuous schedule that I haven’t had much time to simply enjoy being at home. My entire home just morphed into a bedroom space, a place I could sleep in rather than actually live.

“I sometimes wonder if this job was suitable to have into marriage.” I intertwine my hands together against my forehead as I slightly obscure my disheartened face, wondering of all the possible reasons for him to act up that way could my job be the problem. Or worse. _‘Am I the problem?’_

“He-hey, Akaashi-san, is everything fine? Please don’t tell me I’m doing terrible damage to your marriage.”

“Maybe.”

“What!” The man is stunted in place, afraid that he may have done irreparable damage.

“I’m sorry Udai-san.” I lift my face from my fingers and cradle it towards the artist. “I’m just mulling over some problems at home.”

Clap.

“Please, let tell me.” The artist clasped my hands tightly in his with the determination to right any wrongs whether he had anything to do with it or not. He smiled sincerely this time with a resolute gaze towards me. “Please, let me help.”

I smile and drop my hands from his with a resigned sigh.

“My husband had an outburst about me leaving this morning. I think he’s had enough of my work getting in the way of us spending time together. I can understand his point though. In our industry, catching up to deadlines means going to work early in the morning and going home late into the evening.” I look towards the manga artist. “You would know Udai-san. Sometimes I don’t even get to go home.”

“That is true. Our industry doesn’t have the usual working hours.”

I nod. “That’s why I can’t help but wonder if my work really is the problem. At the same time-“ I smack a palm on my face as I snort at myself. “I really love the work we do. Every time I open our magazine and see our panels in place or the screams of devoted readers as they race for the newest copies, I’m filled with so much fulfillment. Creating this manga with you fills me with much pride and joy that I’ve considered it a child of my own.” I let out a heavy breath. “Plus, I really want to make Kotaro proud of me. All these years, he’s worked his way to become such a great professional volleyball player. I want to stand by his side being equally great in my line of work too.”

The manga artist smiles. “I know. After all, what kind of person would be willing to leave drop their holiday vacation to help a stupid manga artist reach a deadline?”

“Me.” I strike my chest as I laugh along him. “But you do have to admit, when thinking about marriage, my choice in career wasn’t the wisest one. I would never consider leaving Kotaro.”

“Hm. I guess that is a fact. It does take much understanding from your partner to be patient with how we do work. However, could you imagine yourself doing anything else? Would really switching careers help your marriage? Would that be how you would like your life to be like? A pivoting wheel around your marriage?”

I crinkle my eyes and furrow my brows before lifting my gaze to Udai-san because the reality is, even though it takes a lot of effort, time and energy, I really love the ability to deliver beautiful stories that touch people’s lives. Even if there a few people, to just be able to tell a carefully thought out story about love, life and hope brings me much joy than I would in any other job.

He also had a point that though switching jobs would be convenient for our marriage, it would be a mere bandage solution to what was really underlying there. What if I would be assigned to another grueling task or job? To be fair, what work isn’t without its times to be grueling and hard? If I were to suffer all the same, it might as well be in doing what I love.

And even when it comes to the person I love, would I really be willing to live half-heartedly just for a piece of mind? Some people call it consideration. I guess that’s valid. It’s valid to make compromises. However, to make a compromise on your own life, on the way you would like to go about living for comfort, I can’t help but thinking that sometimes that path is tinged with much regret.

“No.”

I press my face into my hands at the crossroads we’re at. “Argh. There doesn’t seem to be answer. I don’t want to quit my job and I don’t want to strain my marriage anymore.” Lifting my face from my palms, I glance at the artist busy tapping at his cheek in thoughtful thinking.

“I don’t think it’s that there’s no answer. It’s just not the right question.”

“Huh?” I raised a brow.

“You’re thinking too much and far too off from what’s actually been troubling you. Yes your career and marriage are the bigger part of it, but what’s been bothering you is simple. Why did Bokuto react that way?”

It was just like last time. I was so busy thinking about the bigger picture and wanting to figure everything out on my own that I’ve created wall that stopped me from moving forward. I was so anxious about the problem and the goal that I forgot what needed to be done right then, there and in front of me.

* * *

Three years ago we entered the quarter finals of the Spring High Tournament. The school we were poised to face was Mujinazaka. In their team was one of the top 3 aces- Wakatsu Kiryu. He had a patterned shaved head and a well-built upper and lower body. They say Mujinazaka’s training is physically taxing. That would explain the shared muscled characteristic of their entire team, especially that of Wakatsu-san.

Both teams were already assembled on both ends of the court. I looked out of the corner of my eye. Bokuto was fired up. He was warming up with knee high jumps with his jersey jacket back on. The repetitive exercise of the jump jolted his upper and lower muscles harder and harder until they were apparent to the eye. The areas that touched his slowly warming skin gave the viewer little imagination by the depth of lines and curves across his abdomen and his back. They clung tightly to the sweat.

I blushed averting my eyes from Bokuto’s athletic form once I realized how much I was tracing the lines on his body. He was handsome and, obviously, very hot. I took a hard gulp at the thought.

Then, came the whistle blow which woke me from my stupor. We were all lining up according to our positions when Bokuto hollered towards me. I straightened up, surprised at the gesture.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto beamed his excited toothy grin at me. I stared, patiently waiting with much experience and anticipation for Bokuto’s spontaneous bouts of energy. It was one of the things I appreciated in him. He was fearless to be himself and unapologetic about the things he believed he needed to do. His energy was so infectious and charismatic that it would make you believe in him too. “Yes Bokuto-san?” I smile, fluttering my eyes to signal him that I was waiting for his response.

_‘What are you going to do this time?’_

“Top One.” He holds out his pointer finger towards me, but yells out to the crowds of people in the gymnasium. He retracts his hand a bit only to pump it higher into the air with that single knobby finger up for all the audiences to see. He repeats, louder this time.

“Top One!”

My eyes widen and I snap my hand to my mouth to conceal a timid laugh.

“Akaashi, I’m going to be the top one ace here!”

The audience goes quiet for a bit. I’m called to attention again by Bokuto’s piercing gold eyes. “Akaashi please clear the way for me.” My chest gushes because the fact that a man who believed in himself so much could believe in me meant I had earned his faith and trust. It meant he saw just as much greatness in me as he saw it in him. Knowing Bokuto, what he said was a top-tier compliment that only I would know. No one else in the crowd would understand it. It was a conversation between us.

I smirk looking towards him from under my lashes, feigning as much of a cool behavior.

“Of course. I’ll make a path for you.”

With that the whole audience roars back into noise, talking, gossiping and commenting about Bokuto’s bold declaration. _‘The game hasn’t even started and he’s got the whole gymnasium talking._ ’ Throughout the few seconds we had before the first serve, I glance at our ace appreciating the width and girth of his form. His broad back, outlined by the gymnasium lights, became a beacon for all of us.

When he blurted he would be top one, I couldn’t help but think he meant top one for our team too. _‘Only he could take us that far.’_

And the whistle blew. I knew we had to win.

The first serve was an easy receive for our team that the ball was in a great position in the air for me to toss. I squatted readying for a jump. _‘Now who to toss to? Tossing to Bokuto may just be what they’re expecting, especially after that declaration of his.’_ In the few seconds between the ground and the air, I drew out the deliberation in my head until my fingertips touched the ball. All our spikers were already doing their run up by this time and leaping to the air. Bokuto was the first to reach the peak of his air time. He was positioned in optimal spiking, having his hand drawn completely far back for a smack. I out of the corner of my eye to the rest of the team and toss.

 _‘To Onaga it is then.’_ I set the ball to our center middle blocker, Onaga, who gets up in the air just as Bokuto descends back to the floor. Onaga hits the ball. Smack. The ball meets the ground on our side.

My usually levelled eyes widen. Mujinazaka performed a triple-man commit block, shutting down Onaga’s spike. That was the first point of the game.

The audience roared.

“Sorry!” Onaga hollered from behind. Konoha and Sarukui started patting off the failed from the middle blockers mind. “Don’t mind!” Bokuto chimes in, all the more excited by the fact that the other team was the first to score.

I return back to my position with Bokuto at my side.

“Sorry, I was overthinking.”

Bokuto thoughtfully cups his chin and chimes in, “Well, when you didn’t toss to me at the right time, I figured okay that’s how we’re going to do this.” He claps his hands together twice, shaking off the thought of it for me. “It’s no problem! This is the quarter finals after all!” He flashes a toothy smile my way and squats back into position. I curl one side of my lip a little and flick my eyes back to the other side. _‘Next time.’_ I narrow my eyes to the lead blocker on the other side. _‘I’ll give you the toss.’_

It was their turn to serve again. Fortunately, the ball went out giving us a point in return. We were even again. However, in our team’s serve, Mujinazaka was able to get the ball up. Their setter quickly positioned himself and tossed the ball without hesitation to their ace- Wakatsu-san. The burly player ran up in three strides and launched his muscled body into the air. His arm was wound so far back that it almost looked like his arm snapped up front upon smacking the ball.

Two other blockers and I made a jump for it, making an equally tall wall for the spiker. However, there is a reason he is one of the top three aces. His spike makes it through the cracks between our arms and meets the floor on the other side with a sharp thud. All of us land on our feet except that Wakatsu-san was only looking forward and the blockers and I could only look back at the point we lost.

I furrowed my brow. This is just the beginning.

The game continues with a fair amount of rallies, spikes and serves. However, we falter behind them due to the massive power and energy of their ace wing spiker, Wakatsu-san. Even with our blocks getting in the way, he uses the same raw energy he would in a spike to get a clean rebound to their team. Then, their setter would just give it back to him to smack right back at us again. The cycle continues and the runs to keep up with him were relentless. It was obvious, we were all sweating and fatigued keeping his power at bay.

I wiped a stream of sweat pooling at my chin. _‘We should make it difficult for him too.’_ Konoha receives the ball once again and I position to toss. _‘Let’s make it a little hard to catch.’_ I toss it to Bokuto who manages to pummel against their wall. Mujinazaka scrambles, breaking their formation, as they try to retrieve the ball. One of their back row players barely picks it up and sends it at such a low trajectory to the setter. The setter panics and bumps it with the side of his wrist.

_‘Good.’_

With a height that low, any spiker wouldn’t be able to get up in the air in time to smack it. However, Wakatsu-san wasn’t any spiker. In a millisecond, he was already up in the air. _‘But how?’_ His muscled lower body catapulted him in the exact height needed with only one step. You can’t even call it a run-up. It was just a jump in place. However, with the raw power of his lower body and the aerial dexterity of his upper body, he makes it in time to spike. Thud. The volleyball bounces right into our court with an incomprehensible velocity. It was another point to Mujinazaka.

Maybe it was in that moment that it dawned unto me that we could possibly lose the set. My head was racing on the obstacles before us. The walls of Mujinazaka were getting in the way of Bokuto’s spikes and their killer spear was also giving us a hard time to get the ball back up. _‘We need to do something quick.’_

The ball went up on our side and made its way towards me in the air. In that split second, I made a decision. We need to get a point back before the gaps gets wider. I narrow my eyes on the ball and jump. We need to get a point back even if it means using my own two hands. Thud. I make a dump to only have it shut down by the single hand of Mujinazaka’s setter.

Thud.

The ball rolls in our side of the court. We lost a point because of me.

The game continues. Once again our team competes for another rally. Washio receives the ball and Konoha is in the better position to set. He tosses the ball to Bokuto allowing our ace to make full breath of his airtime. He hits it, not only with unchecked power, but also practiced precision. The ball’s trajectory makes a cross behind the blockers getting us a point back. Bokuto’s momentum continues. He hits successive and rapid straights and crosses against Mujinazaka, even without my help. Konoha and the others easily back him up. The Fukuroudani team was working so smoothly even without me. _‘Maybe, especially without me.’_ My form shrinks in the midst of everyone on the court In between plays, the rest of the players are getting the ball up consistently and our spikers are making the perfect jumps and hits. What was I to contribute but my mistakes? _‘That dump. It was done and finished, but the shame is carried with you like a sin.’_

The whistle blew.

Konoha receives the ball and I’m in the position to set. In the midst of my thoughts, I touch the ball, grazing its rubber surface and relishing the perfect bounce it makes off my fingertips as I set to Bokuto. The toss meets his hand perfectly making an audible smack throughout the court. The ball curves into a quick and clean straight right behind the blockers. The crowds roar.

I smile a little, feeling a smidge of redemption, when the whistle blows and the referee on the ground call the point to Mujinazaka. My shoulders sink a little as I stood there sweaty and confused. Panting. I was panting as I looked unto the obscured face of the referee who waves a flag saying “Illegal hit for holding.”

I held the ball too long that Bokuto’s spike was for nothing.

Another whistle blows.

My befuddled mind had only come to grips with my second mistake when I turn my head to see the final blow to my pride- substitution. I glance to the side to see my player number raised. I swallow the information down. I walk. I walk slowly making my way to Bokuto with my customary poker face feigning composure.

I look towards him, hands still in a tight fist. “Sorry.” I bow.

“Akaashi.” His golden eyes directly darts towards mine calling my attention. “You’re probably thinking this match is something we can’t lose.” I straighten up at the accurate assumption. Bokuto thumbs his chin looking thoughtfully towards the ceiling and flicking back to my eyes. His beautiful golden orbs holds my breath as I await his next word. “Well, until now, have you ever thought that it would be okay if we did?”

He smiles and walks away back to his position.

I continue walking to the bench where I’m seated beside the coach. He softly advices me on the side, assessing my physical and mental condition. As much as I respond, I couldn’t help but echo Bokuto’s words in my head as I turn my gaze against the rubber surface of the floor. _‘Why would it be okay to lose when all this time we’ve always wanted to win?’_

I turn my head to the court and, as if by activation, widen my eyes at the new perspective given to me. Off the court the expanse of your vision allows you to see the action on both sides, how each player moves, how each team performs and how the ball bounces off hands and arms. However, what was most eerie was the realization of people, action and events away from the court. Sounds of Bokuto calling unto Konoha was muffled against the roar of the crowds in the bleachers.

Mobs of people stood, sat, yelled, waved and jumped for joy. Most of them cheered. It was an amazing juxtaposition from the bubble I had been on court. There was life outside of volleyball.

I let out a small breath. Maybe it’s not that it’s okay to lose. It’s that even if we lose, the world won’t end there. I smile.

When we have a goal, a deadline or a vision, we get so worked up on achieving it. Great passion for anything can also be a great burden if left unchecked. We count the ways it could go wrong. We count the ways it could go right. Whatever the path you take, you will imagine, visualize and anticipate the work that needs to take place. We propel ourselves forward only with that mission on sight. However, when we take the plunge, we are so enthralled, intoxicated and, maybe, in love with that goal that once we don’t perform as well as we should, find a roadblock somewhere up ahead or even trip up on our own inadequacies, we overwhelm and frustrate ourselves with the goal in mind to the point of mental or physical paralysis.

The sad reality is that there are so many factors and conditions to consider when deliberating how, in this case, to win. In fact, most of them are out of our control. It’s a sobering thought, however, we make do with what little we can control. We take our goals and fold it like a piece of paper to be placed inside our breast pocket. It’s there. We can feel the faint weight and we are assured of its presence. However, we take it out of our sight to meddle with the things that are needed to be done before us.

The awareness that a goal is great coupled by the realism of one’s humanity to get there generates one thing- practicality.

Practical. It’s such a loosely used word. It often connotes having to do away with other items in order to meet that one thing. It’s that reductionism that makes it such an unpopular word because, after all, wouldn’t we all want to have it all? However, it’s because you can do away with other things that you can focus on what needs to be done at hand.

Practical means to settle, but it also means to face the facts.

The fact is that the most practical thing is to secure the next point. Nothing more and nothing less. Just do what needs to be done here, now and right in front of me.

_‘That’s why I love him. He’s too simple.’_

* * *

“You should ask Bokuto why and how he feels. After all, I think it’s not so bad that he was angry.” Udai-san muses.

“Why do you think so?”

“Most often than not, the angriest people are actually the most hopeful.”

“The most hopeful?”

“Yeah. Take it this way. Who do you think would be angrier? A guy who’s aware of the horrible traffic downtown and opts to leave the house hours earlier or the guy who leaves whenever expecting to arrive at work in just ten minutes? Of course, it’s the latter guy. Why? Because he expected. He hoped. He imagined. I think that maybe Bokuto did just that. He must have hoped to spend time together with you during holiday vacation that having it not happen that way made him act up.”

“I suppose so.”

“Personally, I think that’s a good sign. By some correlation, an angry person is also a caring person. He’s angry because he hopes. He hopes because he cares. Because of that, I don’t think talking to him should be a problem when it’s obvious he still very much cares.”

I smile at the manga artist. “Udai-san-“ I clap my hands slowly with a mocking smile. “For once, you’re offering quite the wise words.” I stand from his bed and cross my arms towards him. “But-“ Raising my brow, I cock a threatening glare at the manga artist. “Now that you’ve said that, why don’t you make it easier for me to talk to him by finishing your work for today so I can quickly go home to my husband?”

The image jolts the man off the bed to quickly start on work. He trembles while assuming a nervous laugh. “Do-don’t worry Akaashi! I’ll make sure you have time to go home to your husband tonight.” Bravely, he pumps a fist into the air before quickly relieving himself of my deathly glare by closing the door behind him. Click.

_‘I have to deal with Udai-san. Then, I can talk with Bokuto. For now though-‘_

I look out of the balcony window of Udai-san. The glass was hazy at its edges from the delicate icy patterns that were attempting to obscure the view from outside. I walk towards the sliding door, touching the surface. The frigidness of the glass sends shivers down my spine that I instantly hugged myself from the mere instinct to keep warm. My eyes keep shut and my head buries itself into my turtleneck. After the cold tremors have gone, I opened my crinkled eyes to see Tokyo. The city was spectacularly heaped with snow.

It was white and only white.

I used to like that about winter. The sheer whiteness of snow stilled the landscape and created a calm universe before you. Now that I’m older, I realize that I was wrong. The whiteness of snow and ice clears your sight of anything else. It covers the green of the undergrowth, stifles the growth of any new blossoms and deems any form unrecognizable under itself. In winter, everything is hidden.

Ping.

I take my phone out of my pocket to view a message from the publishing company.

_‘No.’_

It seems no matter how hard Udai-san works tonight, I still won’t be able to go home.

**Bokuto**

Footsteps. I wake up to the sound of footsteps. _‘Is he already gone?’_ While shielding my eyes from the little sunlight that penetrate the curtains, I begin my blind search on the bed, patting, swiping and brushing the other side of the sheets for any evidence of life. I heave a sigh as my fingers linger on what little depression was left by my bedmate. They sink and swims at the faint traces of heat, the faint traces that he was there at all.

I was waiting excitedly last night for Keiji to return. I was hoping I could talk to him and explain why I acted the way I did. I set up the table and made dinner. The only thing I had to do was wait. Minutes turned to hours as I probed myself to stay awake to welcome Keiji home. It was 11 pm in the evening when I received a message.

“I’m sorry! I forgot to text you that I won’t be able to come home tonight. I need to finish some papers tonight and tomorrow. I promise after this, I’ll be yours for the rest of the holidays.”

I didn’t eat dinner that day. I was too afraid to touch anything fragile, anything that could be thrown, and anything that would be satisfying to break so I walked away from the kitchen and sulked in the bedroom the whole night.

I heave a sigh. I pull up at my comforters, bunching them to my sides as I take in the frigid morning. I turn to where he was supposed to be, eyeing the little dent of existence he made and catching a few strands of raven hair on his head pillow. I pick it up a strand up with my nimble fingers, twisting the thread-like strand. “So it’s come to this.”

He didn’t bother waking me up when he arrived. He didn’t bother to pull me in an embrace. He didn’t bother to stir me at all. I can’t help thinking maybe Keiji doesn’t find me that appealing anymore to stir at all. I started to feel an old emotion I haven’t felt in a long time since our marriage- self-consciousness.

I imagine how I look to Keiji. I was a lump of muscle, rough around the edges and careless about my movements. I didn’t have an ounce of his fashion sense or his fine grained taste. Much like my image of myself, I drop the strand of hair in the sea of foam and sheets as I take a step out of the bed. I shiver, hugging myself on both sides as my foot meets the cold floorboards. I continue to amble out and swing the door panel open to reveal the stunningly brighter world outside the bedroom. The sunlight made its full presence known, dipping the whole living room in warm light. It looked tempting to plop on the sofa to sun bathe all day, especially at the rarity for the sun to come out at all.

However, I turned to the doorway. The doorway was empty and, sometimes, I wonder if our marriage was now too. I imagined how he must have stepped out and left in a rush. I wonder what he wore, how he looked, if he ate first and if he ever looked back to think of me at all.

“Argh!” I ruffle my flat bedhead into twisted rotations on both sides until the pain gives me much reason to fall lifeless on the couch. I huff turning my body towards the television’s side. Could it be, in one fell swoop, I ended our marriage?

“Stupid Bokuto! All you wanted was sex! Couldn’t you have held it in a little longer?”

_‘Most probably not.’_

I get off my seat and walk towards the phone.

“Can I come over again?”

Hours later, I was standing by the doorway at the mercy of the threatening glare of Tsuki. Throwing his weight around, he looked at me from under his lashes with smirk. “Hmph! You two boys have fun with your bro talk.” Then, proceeded to leave with a shopping bag in tow.

I looked back at the doorway with an equally scared Kuroo peeking behind the frame, checking if Tsuki rode the elevator already. He gestured me in with the wave of his hand.

“Did I do that?” I sincerely asked in concern.

Kuroo snorts. “You wish. No that’s all me.” Kuroo closes the door behind me. “He’s noticed that I’ve been acting strange lately. To be honest, I can’t blame him. I’ve been such an airhead, forgetting to wash the dishes, do the laundry or burning last night’s dinner.”

“Oh what’s been bothering you?”

“I haven’t talked to Tsuki about the marriage yet.”

“What? Why not?” We both walk into the living room and plop into the sofa. Kuroo grabs for the remote.

“How do you open a conversation about marriage without making it weird?”

I cackle from his side. “You’re really thinking about that? If I were you, I’d just get to it like ripping a bandage off.”

“Oh.” He raises a brow and glance at me from the corner of his eye.

“So I suppose you already talked to Akaashi.”

I bow my head to the floor and softly answer. “No.” Instantly, I feel a strong impact on my shoulder slamming me to the other side of the sofa. “Ouch! Kuroo!” I eye the guy as he return back into his seat, crossing his legs while flicking through the television. “What was that for?”

“It just felt right to sucker punch a hypocrite. You haven’t even talked to Akaashi yet!”

“Hey, I have my reasons! He didn’t come home last night and when he did get home, he left just as quickly.” I frown remembering the image the depressed side of the bed, still warm, but empty nonetheless.

“Oh, work has really been pushing him recently.”]

“Yeah but he said he should be done by today and everything will be back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Oh that’s-“

“But you know, I can’t help but think if it’s really work that’s the problem.” I clasp my hands against the fabric of my pants. Shooting up my golden eyes at him I mumble, “What if Akaashi doesn’t think I’m sexy anymore? That’s why he hasn’t had sex with me!”

I recall that day when we went to the skating rink. If it wasn’t Keiji’s eyes, it was many other eyes on me that told me I was ill fit for a prince like him. I remember the cold and judgmental glares of his peers, seniors and even strangers as they pierces my skin with a feeling of disapproval.

“What the hell?” Kuroo bursts into maniacal laughter, rolling on his back, unable to face me.

“Hey you! This is a legit concern!” I grab both shoulders crossing my torso as if I was protecting my dignity at this point. “What if Akaashi finds someone sexier?” I pout remembering the image of Kinomoto-san.

Wiping a tear from the edge of his eye, he manages to make his words into sentences. “Bokuto, you’re a professional volleyball player. You’re as ripped as they come. I doubt Akaashi could find anyone sexier except-“

I arch my grey up a little higher while perking my ears up for the answer. “Except this raven-haired devil right here.” Pointing upon himself, he flips his hair with a smirk. “Raven-haired people are always sexy.”

I immediately deflate, grabbing a nearby cushion to cradle my sinking head. “Yeah, no thanks.” I turn my head away from the man I thought was my bro.

Regardless of my social cues, Kuroo leans forward trying to convince me anyway. “Think about it. Akaashi is raven-haired too.”

My ears straighten out from the mention of Keiji.

“You think he’s beautiful.”

I nod.

“You think he’s hot.”

I nod.

“You think he’s a damn snack you want to eat right now.”

I nod. _‘Maybe Kuroo has a point.’_

“And-“

Thud goes the door.

**Akaashi**

I stared at the reports I had finished upon my desk and smiled. Compared to yesterday, work went on smoothly that I didn’t need to visit Udai-san’s house. What’s more all the reports I needed to do for the day was done. For once, I might actually get home early.

Ping.

I take my phone from my coat pocket to find a message from Kuroo. _‘Oh that’s odd. What would Kuroo have to tell me this time?’_

“I need to call you. It’s an emergency.”

I raise a brow at the text message and make my way to the office corridors. Through the crowds of other writers, artists and editors, I slip to the fire exit where no one else would be. As soon as I was in the clear, tapped on Kuroo’s caller ID.

“Hello? Kuroo?”

“Akaashi! It’s about Bokuto. He and I were both talking when he bolted on me all of a sudden. I’m kind of worried that he might do something reckless.”

I grit my teeth as I digest the information that came out of nowhere. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. _‘I can’t seem to be able to rest with you Kotaro.’_ I calm my head with a cold palm against the skin’s surface, hoping the pounding of my brain would calm upon the contact of skin. My heart races and so does mind on all the possibilities that could lead Kotaro dead in a ditch. “Thank Kuroo. I’ll clock out and find Kotaro.” I end the call immediately, fleeing the fire escape and making my way to the office. Like a ghost, I swoop in and out of the cubicles in steady but hurried pace.

Click.

I clock out of the office maintaining my reputed composure and poker face. That is until I’m finally out the door.

I make a mad dash to the train station making it only second before the vehicle cars closed. I pant while gripping the cold metal standing bars close by, coaxing the weird eyed stares of onlookers. I continue to pant. _‘I have a fairly good idea what he may be up to, but where he would be is the question.’_ Quickly, I whip out my phone and tap unto the only secret he’s ever hidden from his husband.

As much as I trust Kotaro, I don’t quite have the same sentiments for his sense of direction so year ago, I had the good intention of installing a Find My Phone application using Kotaro’s phone as the reference device, hoping it would put my heart at ease whenever he would call that he was lost again. The application gleams to life against the glassy surface of my phone revealing a map and a red dot appearing and disappearing in consistent intervals. _‘Maybe this time, it’s also good for finding people who don’t want to be found.’_ The red dot stays in place. My thumb and pointer settle on the screen’s glass, zooming into the location of the map.

As soon as the train cars ping open, I make a run out the door. Carefully slipping through cracks of people and card machines. Tap. Tap. Tap. My boots hit the pavement in a uniform beat. My real challenge will come once I was out of the station.

That would be the snow. Once I emerged from the station’s staircase, my boots meet the thick lump of snow that have accumulated over the ground. I take my first step and instantly my foot sinks ankle deep into the white sheets.

“Tch.”

I look left and right to assess my surroundings. The whole district was covered in white clandestine snow. Sheets of ice piled over building tops and balconies. Lumps of it dangerously weighed on canopies, possibly breaking off a branch anytime. However, what bothered me the most was the visible surface of sidewalk that ran through the district. Its breadth and length was cleared of snow. However, its once rough concrete surface had gleamed into a glassy polish against the winter light alerting me that it was much more dangerous than trudging in the heavy lumps of white sheets of the undergrowth.

_‘Even if I did speed up, I might just end up falling.’_

It would be reasonable to take the paved surface and just go on my journey carefully and slowly. After all, maybe Kotaro wasn’t going to do anything troublesome. However, my anxiety was a thick skin on my heart. I chose to run through the piles of snow.

Preferring the path less seen, I trudge and drag my feet through the snow, unknowingly leaving tracks of my shoe prints behind and revealing what was under the thin sheets of ice. While running, I couldn’t shake off ruminating on all the conditions, factors or scenarios that could play out. _‘Why would he run out on Kuroo all of a sudden? Could this be related to how he was acting out the other day?’_

I shake my head side-to-side afraid I may fall deep into the rabbit hole of my own thinking before I needed to execute what needed to be done now. That was to find Kotaro.

Regret tinged my heart as it raced against my rib cage. _‘Maybe if I wasn’t so shy last night, I could have woken him up and talked to him. Maybe if I wasn’t desperately trying to be an equal to Kotaro, then he wouldn’t feel that he was neglected. Maybe if I wasn’t so stuck up on figuring things out on my own, then things wouldn’t have ended up this way.’_

I breathe heavily against the thick winter air, plunging into the small mist I produce with my breath as I speed forward. The brief warmth of my mouth and the consistent swing of my arms propelling me forward does much to encourage me to keep trudging forward.

I kick, slog and drag forward again and again. The effort slowly takes a toll on my body as the thick layers that have come to protect me from the frigid temperatures have now turned into an enemy weighing me down. It was starting to get hard to breathe. Nonetheless, I keep putting one foot over the other trusting that the rhythm would launch me forward, if my will couldn’t. Sooner than later, I fall into my own pace. My mind checks out into autopilot. My eyes dart down the snow covered path watching my boots sink ankle deep to only be pulled out again leaving revelations of the undergrowth, weeds and shrubs that have laid dormant.

I always loved winter because of the snow, how it made the landscape white and still. The quiet was comforting and soothing. There was nothing to be thought about. There was only so much calm to take in. _‘However,’_

I looked down once again at the brief sight of wet soil, broken twigs and dead undergrowth. _‘I would prefer seeing the cold dormant thoughts, feelings and shadows of this relationship than having it cloaked over by the resemblance of a calm and ideal marriage.’_

I whip out my phone and tap the screen to reveal the red dot up ahead. I shove it back in, briefly relishing my warm coat pockets. Then, I accelerate a bit, determined to meet Kotaro first before any danger. My phone starts beeping, signaling my nearing the location of the red dot. Beep. It gets louder. Beep. I spot a tall long dark-haired figure on sight. Beep. He spots me. Beep. I come to a stop panting as I hold unto my knees for balance. Beep. He was wearing a thick black winter coat. Beep. I grabbed unto it for support. Beep. I look into his golden eyes and take a deep breath. Beep.

I scream into his face. “Bokuto Kotaro!”

“What?”

The burly raven-haired fellow was none other than my husband. Dressed with a grey mock neck sweater under his Burberry coat, he takes a defensive stance against my outburst, surrendering his hands against his chest and bending his knees against the tight hugging fabric of his winter thermal bottoms. Even in such a weird and awkward position, he was truly handsome. I frown.

I couldn’t take it. My anxiety took over and I cried.

“Keiji! Wait, why are you crying?”

I heave a sigh and quickly grit my teeth trying to calm myself. In between sobs I manage to say, “Kuroo told me you disappeared on him all of a sudden and that you were acting weird lately. It made me worry that-“

“That?”

“That this had something to do with your outburst the other day! That it was my fault for not hearing you out! That I wasn’t spending enough time with you!”

Even more beads of warm salt water were swelling up in my eyes, slowly working its way out the edges. I wipe the corners of my sight with the back of my coat sleeve, trying to retain as much composure as I can. It was useless. They spilled out. All my worries, concerns and anxiety about our relationship and marriage spilled out of my face in the form of wet streams.

_‘Is work getting in the way?’_

_‘Why are you being quiet about it?’_

_‘Was I the right person to marry at this point?’_

The thoughts race through my head until I feel a soft clap on both of my cheeks. Warmth did not only spill from my eyes, but cupped my cheeks in the form of his large hands. I was caught off guard by the gesture and lifted my gaze unto the man.

Kotaro’s eyes gleamed golden as his pupils focused on mine. His features soften a bit as he took in my cupped sobbing face. Flushed cheeks were bunched up against his callous hands. My normally cool eyes were tinged with a glassy sheen and my nose turned into a nice rose on my face. I wasn’t beautiful at all.

“Keiji.” I look up to his unwavering stare, only noticing then that his body has come so close to mine. The heat of his torso bumping against my chest.

“Kuroo was right. You’re really beautiful. You’re beautiful even when you cry.”

_‘This man.’_

And I cry some more, this time plunging my face into the muscle cushion of his chest. As I snuggle into his skin and musk, he wraps my whole torso with the length of his arms. The defined cuts and curves of his skin pressing against my frame gave my comfort. After a few moments of trembling into his frame, I regain the composure to look up him. His face still perky and giddy. I squint my eyes at him with a scowl and address the elephant in the room.

“Tell me, what did you do to your hair?”

The taller man straightened up and shrunk a little in himself. Scratching the side of his cheek, he averts my gaze to obscure the faint pink blush working up on his face.

“Well, you see.” He stutters trying to find the words up in the air. “I thought to color my hair black and maybe have it blown down like yours.”

I retract my body from his grabbing his arms. “Why?” I ask in a quizzical tone.

“Kuroo told me black-haired guys are sexy. I was thinking maybe if you found me sexy. You would want to do it more often.” He says while clasping his hands and playing with his fingers.

My existing blush turns a shade darker as it spreads from my cheeks all the way to the top of my ears. I grit my teeth. _‘This man. I’ve been wracking my brain up thinking he had a problem with me, my job and our marriage. While all this time-‘_ I pummel my overworked brain cells against Kotaro’s burly chest hoping their death would make my life much easier. I press my pointed nose into his sweater sinking into his heat and sweet musk. I lift my gaze, staring at him from under my wet fluttering lashes.

“Kotaro-“

He straightens up at the muffled call of his name. My lips remain pressed to his chest, not wanting to leave the warm nest of his body. I continue trusting he would understand my words by the reverberation through his body.

“Show it to me. Show me all your feelings, worries and concerns. Don’t hide a single one, no matter how small. I want to see it all. I want to see you laugh and cry. I want to see you happy and angry. I want to see you shy and scared. Nothing is unimportant and nothing is trivial when it comes to you.”

I dip my head deeper into his chest, rubbing my cheeks into the curves of his chest. I breathe in the smell of Kotaro and, magically, I notice.

I notice the equally racing heart of my husband. The consistent thumps against his chest plays a soothing tune to my ear, reassuring me of his staunch love.

“So-“

Sometimes I wonder why we have winter. Why do we have a season where most things die and go to sleep? The things that give the world life, like the trees, the rivers and even buildings, are piled up with snow. The thick white coat on the earth puts an eerie silence to the landscape. It quells the burst of color. It stifles the movement of predator and prey. It engulfs the world in endless white.

“Let’s-“

Maybe that is the magic of winter. The forms of the world are masked before us. Things we thought we knew as the mailbox down the road, the statue before the shrine or the big rock under the tree aren’t those things once your probe them through the snow. Maybe that is exactly what winter and, maybe, life is about. Probing.

That is true in a relationship and, most especially, in a marriage.

To marry is like stepping into the snow, sinking ankle deep, destroying the beautiful white illusion of love. At first, while standing in place, we enjoy basking in the white world. However, to move forward is to leave footprints in the snow. It’s to reveal the dirty and dormant undergrowth that lies in wake. You look forward and you see white forms of things you wouldn’t know unless you probed them. You look back and you see the dark dents and depressions you’ve made on the surface by just doing that.

“Do it-”

Maybe that is what love is. It’s the maturity to compromise. It’s to accept that love is both the clandestine snow and the dirty dead undergrowth. It’s the carnal desire to make love to your partner and the extreme passion for work.

That’s why we have winter. Everything in the snow is hidden, hence there is so much more to unearth as we go. That relentless unearthing is marriage.

“Tonight.”

As expected, Kotaro’s eyes light up and he presses his forehead into mine gently and tenderly, communicating that more than the sex, it was really me he wanted. Me and my undivided attention. I give it to him. We tilt our heads towards each other, carefully letting both our dry chapped lips brush against each other. They loom closer and closer until both ends press unto each other, warm with want. The frigid cold around us made a stark contrast to the heat within us. We tenderly rock and smack lips against each other, hiding the swipe and slide of tongues under lips. Before any heat could rise, I pull away placing my firm hands on Kotaro’s equally heaving chest. I notice the stares of onlookers around us and paid no mind.

I slip a hand into Kotaro’s and proceed to pull him along the direction of our home. Smiling uncontrollably because I would soon immerse myself in the person I love. The soft heat of my cheeks turns terribly hotter as Kotaro lets go of my hand to slide on the small of back. He proceeds to lean closer to me placing his lips only millimeters away from the shell of my ear. I could feel wetness of his word through my ears.

“I love you Keiji.”

**EPILOGUE:**

Kotaro and I have now been married for ten years. Unlike the empty and quiet one-bedroom apartment we once had as a couple, we now shared a noisy and rowdy three-bedroom apartment scattered with toys and paper all over the floor.

I sigh as I tiptoe across the minefield of plastic fire trucks and military tanks as well as fine paper of crayon drawings and paper planes. “Whew.” I successfully reach the other side of the living room and bend down to pick up stack of manga by the side of the television credenza. I quickly turn with the pile slightly digging into my chest for support. I cuddle the manga books under my chin and proceed with the very delicate act of navigating through the thoroughfare of toys. I lift my foot and surgically position my toe in the air making sure that my feet were pointed to practice utmost precision through the tumultuous maze.

I was confident I could do this until the front door swings wide open making an audible thud. From the obscurity of the doorway, a young boy with horned raven hair runs towards me hugging my feet.

“Oto-san!”

_‘Shit.’_

I lose balance spilling the manga books unto the floor and landing sorely on a Lego block on my bum. Regardless, through the scuffle of it all, I made sure to shield the precious boy before the fall. 

“Seiji are you okay?” I unearth the boys beaming face under the mountain of manga books. I let out a sigh of relief. Thud. After checking that the boy wasn’t injured, I lift my gaze at the two figures looming at the doorway. One of them was my burly and terribly tall husband, carrying a quiet grey-haired boy in one arm and a tanabata tree in the other.

“Oi Seiji, what did I tell you about tackling your father like that?”

The boy pops out of the mountain of books and chimes, “Not to”, with a frown. Seiji pads across the living room to grab the tanabata tree from his father, coaxing him to let the other boy in his arms roam around as well. Kotaro is happy to see the initiative from the boy and let’s down the younger toddler. Still wobbly and ungraceful with his footing, the younger boy ambles aimlessly until he sees me. His light golden eyes dart towards my face as I gesture him to come to me.

I smile.

“Come here Rintaro!”

The little boy ambles slowly towards me as his father and older brother set up the tanabata tree on the other side of the credenza.

Moments later, the baby boy finds himself in my arms, of course with a little help from me inching equally closer to him. I definitely did not want the child to fall on a plastic car. As I turn back, Kotaro and Seiji were finished setting the tanabata tree. Its leaves gleamed beautiful dark green against the sunlight.

“Oh what about the paper? Were you able to buy the tanzaku from the shrine?”

“Oh no!” Kotaro slaps a fist unto his forehead as he recalls that all three of them forgot. I pout teasingly.

“Well someone has to get it or else we won’t be able to make your wishes come true.” I chime standing up and walking away to the toddler’s room where I leave him in the safety of his crib. “I’ve been meaning to get out of the house anyway.” I grab a light green parka which a slip on against my button-down blouse.

“What? Are you sure? Let us get it, it’s our fault!” Kotaro says pleadingly.

I wave off his concerned face. “I’ve been cooped up here for too long because of work. I want some fresh air too.” I take off leaving the boys amongst themselves to figure out dinner.

At the shrine, I line up at the counter with many other parents and children hoping to buy tanzaku paper. The wait was palpable with calm and soothing sights and sounds of the shrine. I let my eye wander happily through the landscape of nature until it settles on a black haired man wearing a white volleyball jersey jacket that spelled Adlers.

He climbs the steps of the wooden floor towards the shrine bell. He tugs at the bell ringing it several times before clapping loudly and praying earnestly to the gods.

The sight wasn’t a foreign one. In fact, if it’s not me, then it’s Kotaro who spots him during this occasion. After all, tanabata is the season we make wishes.


	5. The Scent of Tanabata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What about Kageyama?

**The Scent of Tanabata**

I flick the bathroom lights open. The sterile white light gleamed against the many glossy, taupe, bathroom tiles. I step into the area, feeling the cold tiles against the sole of my bare calloused feet, as I approach the elliptical mirror warmly lit around its edges. The man before me had loose, sagging skin that drooped against his cheek bones and skull, creating a rounded character to his face. His eyes were almost a murky gray and looked heavily hooded due to the baggy lids that slumped above them. His lips were small, dry and often in a frown just like the rest of his body, at the mercy of gravity and time.

I place a palm on top of my forehead and watch the old man on the mirror do the same. His palm was wrinkly and weak, trembling from merely being lifted up. It had sunspots on its back and arbitrary fine, white hairs growing at the knuckles. Nonetheless, it was still warm against the skin. Frail, but warm. Upon contact on the forehead, I felt the dry flakiness of my skin both from my face and my hand. It felt disgusting, but a tolerable kind of disgusting because it was all quite natural. I drag my hand down towards the bottom of my chin, watching how pliable my skin was to the force of my motions. Down my hands went pulling at the skin until all the pink tissue under my eyes and lips were thoroughly exposed. Then, I let go. What little elasticity existed on my face had returned the skin to its original droopiness. Nothing more and nothing less.

_‘It’s been like that for years.’_

After having finished my morning shower, I step out into the living room, leading my eyes to dart towards a large cardboard box I had acquired this morning. I amble carefully and unsteadily towards the box, remembering that my feet weren’t the same as they were before. Upon finally arriving at the box, I pat its cardboard surface like an old friend, relishing the soothing brushing sound it made against my dry and loose skin.

After having had enough, I pull at the top of the folded flaps to reveal a well-preserved small bamboo tree. I smile.

Today was the first day of Tanabata.

I proceed to bend down, using as much strength left in my thighs, and grab both sides of the box. I draw in a heavy breath and, with ally my frail power, pull the cardboard off of the plant. Having the carton taken off, the small bamboo tree could finally bask in the warm sunlight and show off many of its fine light green foliage. I bend once more and start sliding the terracotta pot carefully against the floor boards to the corner right beside the couch.

“Whew!”

I wipe sweat beads cradled by the lines on my forehead before plopping ungraciously unto the couch. I let myself rest, heaving in quick, short breaths. My eyes lift towards the television credenza, where another cardboard box laid beside it. Its cardboard was old, folded and tattered this time. It was an old box and its contents could be even called ancient.

I release another heavy sigh knowing I’d have to look through it. I turn my face towards my lap, shaking it side-to-side at the impossible task of getting up from the soft and plump cushion of the couch. I push my little shriveled body up and, once again, struggled ambling towards the ancient container.

Once arriving to its spot, I carefully kneel down before it, making sure my weak willow knees would land gently against the floor boards. _‘Always such a bother to be old.’_ I dust off the surface of the cardboard opened the flaps carefully. There were old knee pads, socks, shirts, papers, albums, pink candy and toys. My frail hand went through the tiny cracks of space between items until it touched a flimsy, thin plastic. I smiled with my crooked teeth and pulled the plastic packaging from beyond the bottom of the box.

It was a nicely packed ream of tanzaku papers that I wisely saved up from when I was younger. The transparent plastic showed the beautiful array of colors available and a black sharpie stuffed at the side. I quickly get up and lay the package on the glass coffee table and return back to the ancient box. I close the flaps and hold the container on both sides. _‘One, two, three, go!’_ I draw a heavy breath while catapulting my feet up. _‘Yes!’_ Smiling, I begin ambling to the store room behind the kitchen area. However, in midstep, the bottom of the box opens.

“Ouch!”

I didn’t know what happened, but, upon opening my eyes, I found myself flat on the floor with many of the items in the box scatters around me. One item had particularly wrapped itself around my leg. As I push myself upright, I felt the soft fabric tug and pull until it slipped completely from the surface of my bare legs. It was none other than my old sports towel.

It was a bit tattered and worn-out, but I quickly grabbed hold of it, pressing the soft fabric into my face, to check if it still smelled much like him.

* * *

I was quickly packing my things in the morning, making sure I had brought my change of clothes and volleyball shoes for the morning and evening practice. I turn back to check the time on the clock. It was 4:30 am.

“Tch.”

I throw in an extra towel and make a dash down the stairs, leaving without much of a breakfast or word to my family. The soles of my shoes tap vigorously against the concrete pavement as I sped out of the neighborhood towards my high school. The purple of the late evening had paled by the rising of the sun, slowly dissipating the cold morning mist and the dark shadows of the night before. I took a deep breath taking in the musky scent of dewy morning grass, cold mountain air and the warming, yet wet, blossoms of the earth. The scent was the same as the day before and the day before that. It became a part of what set my morning right.

_‘So did he.’_

My eyes narrowed on another boy that had turned a corner towards the school. I smirk. _‘To hell was I going to lose to you.’_ In a matter of seconds, I accelerate the pace of my feet to catch up to him and mockingly pass him on the road. It was satisfying as the action elicited an annoyed snort. Soon, the boy had tied up with me on speed and stamina, running vigorously at my side. His usually orange spiky hair wafted against the wind, leaving much of the air space between us intoxicated with his scent. He smells like the morning. As we were nearing the school gates, the competitive spirit within us would rise, probing us to nudge and push against each other’s side with our shoulders. Bumping and grazing against warm skin allowed us to show off our strength against one another and was something I was very confident in since I had the build for it all.

I smirk. I was going to win this.

I give a shove against Hinata’s small frame during the mad dash, pressing my arm against his soft skin and towering against his minute body. Of course, he fought back nudging me just the same during the run, but I continue to press and tower against him until I had leaned in so closely to his head. My cheek was just an inch away from the shell of his ear and my nose was almost nestled in between the strands of his glistening orange hair. His scent was my oxygen. I take a deep breath.

We had passed the school gates by this time and both our desire for victory rose. It was technically the last lap of our morning races, the race to the gym door. I push myself away from his body and make a mad dash from him. However, he thought the same and darted towards the door. Hearts racing, adrenaline pumping and feet worn-out and sore, we were at our limit.

_‘This was why I really liked Hinata.’_

Smack.

_‘He pushes me harder than anyone else could.’_

Our hands had held the handle of the gym door at the same time, taking up the same space and overlapping equal amount of skin against each other. Our fingers trembled from the physical run, but I couldn’t help thinking if it also had anything to do with the touch our hands.

Locked. We realized the gym door was stiff and locked as we both gripped the handle and pulled, not minding pressing against the skin of one another because winning was much more important than being shy.

“Argh! It’s not yet open Kageyama! Let go already!”

“Tch. You let go first.”

We weren’t making any sense. If it wasn’t a race, then it was going to be a competition of the last hand holding, but, deep down, I think we enjoyed how we stiffened and hardened our clasp against the door and how we were stubborn to never let go. That was because the few minutes we waited like idiots, instead of running to get the keys of the door, was a few minutes more holding unto each other.

“Oi, are you two fighting this early in the morning?”

That was until Tanaka would show up. It was always like that. 

The morning practice was one of the few times we would openly cooperate. I would deal Hinata with my serves and he would scramble around the court to try to receive them all. Then, we’d switch and do the whole thing again. Over the course of weeks and months, that was our unsaid setup, taking turns to serve and receive.

“Oh, I forgot my towel.”

“What?”

“Kageyama, can I borrow one of your extra ones.”

“Idiot! Why don’t you be more responsible and bring your own next time!” I say angrily while throwing one of my extra towels unto his face. He laughs, holding the cloth thankfully and wiping the glistening sweat bead on his skin. I look away, averting my eyes from the sharp lines of his collarbone and the soft edges of his exposed skin while he lifted his shirt. _‘A naked body is still a naked body, even it’s just the torso.’_ I blush while pressing my eyes shut, concentrating on other things hoping no color would go to my cheeks. It was taking too long, though. He was taking too long wiping himself down. The thought and the imagination gets to me. “Argh! Just use that thing for the rest of the day. Return it after you have it washed!” I burst out after being overwhelmed by my own mental images of his skin.

“Huh?”

I trudge towards the exit of the gym, leaving Hinata alone with my towel.

The day continued normally as classes blended the morning to the afternoon. Soon, it would be time for practice. The long winded volleyball practice that day involved drills, serves, receives as well as a practice match to prepare for the Inter High . Just like how we were on the day of the tryouts, Karasuno was divided into two.

The game began. Hinata was the first to serve. Though weak, his serve at least made it to the other side of the net. As expected, it was well received by Daichi who sent it towards Suga who manages a toss towards Tsukki. Our team starts the counterattack. Hinata and Asahi make a run-up to block. However, Tsukki’s towering height and game sense gives him enough of a leverage to pull off a feint instead.

Thud. The ball lands softly on our side.

“Too easy.” Tsukki says as he cocks a condescending brow.

“Tch!” I turn my heavily livid eyes to our middle blocker instead. “Oi, Hinata! If you’re going to block, make sure you read the play first!” I yell. It freezes the guy in cold sweat, but he easily shakes it off like it’s any other day while everyone else laughs in the background.

The game continues as the other team pulls ahead of us with four points. It was Daichi’s turn to serve. Asahi manages to receive the ball and bring it up to me. I take my position watching carefully as the ball rotates downwards to where I was. We were being blocked by the likes of Tsukki and Yamaguchi. Their heights compensated a lot for the lack of attacking power on the other side, but also quelled much of ours.

I needed to make the attacks quick and quicker to get over the wall in front of us.

“Kageyama, toss to me!”

I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to look. As long as I heard that voice, I knew I never had to fear that the ball I would toss up would be left up in the air to fall. That was because and only because of you. _‘Hinata.’_

With my fingers, I catapult the ball towards the right side of the net without a second look if there was anyone to jump up there. In that few sparse moments, most probably there wasn’t. There wouldn’t be anyone who could meet the quick tempo of a toss like that. However, there was always Hinata.

Just like that, everyone’s eyes widened as he pulled off another of his stellar high jumps. He was basically drifting in mid-air as his torso curved to pull his arm as farthest as he could. Then, when he matched the ball’s fall, he delivered a crisp and audible smack, flicking sweat beads from his hair from the sudden motion.

Thud. That was one point for us.

I smiled. Even after I joined Karasuno, I still felt plagued by the hard feelings I encountered in middle school at Kitagawa Daichi. I was very much passionate about volleyball and, even more so, about winning. However, there comes a point when you realize that the path towards your goal isn’t shared by everyone. Passion is mistaken for notoriety; steps towards your goals are seen as demands; and, before you know it, your standard of play has placed you in a cold, lonely throne that made a fissure between you and your teammates. There was always that fear, but not anymore. I stare at a distance through the small pools of sweat made from Hinata’s hair.

_‘Not anymore.’_

The game continued with both sides polishing their individual and combined skills and strategies until both sides were properly put out for the day. The gym floor boards were stained with sweat and the air was humid with perspiration.

Suga clapped. “Okay, let’s clean up!”

“Uh!” I raised a hand. “I’ll clean up instead. I want to practice a bit more.” Suga and the other third years smiled, knowing full well that saying no wouldn’t be an option so they concede.

“Oh! I’ll practice with him so I’ll help clean up too!” Hinata chimes in as he points at himself cheerfully.

“Alright!” Daichi interjects with hands on his waist. “Just don’t stay here for too long.”

With that, many of the club members left the gym with their bags and towels in tow. I narrowed my eyes on Hinata who was toying around with a volleyball.

“Oi!”

He freezes in place before turning nervously at me.

“You know that this means.” I wipe the sweat pooling under my chin.

His posture straightens as he holds the volleyball between his hands. He nods with fierce intensity in his eyes focused at me. It was the best time to practice our freak quick.

“One more!” He shouts after receiving my throw and bouncing the ball right back at me. He makes a speedy run-up and leaps into the air just as I toss. Thud. He decisively spikes the ball to the other side and lands on his two feet before resuming his run back to falsely claim, “One more!”

I snort. Sweat beads stained the floor boards and the familiar aroma of our bodies waft the whole court. I take a deep breath before I yell. “I told you that’s the last, idiot! Now wipe yourself down before you catch a cold!”

It was because of this. It was because of the races we have in the morning, the way he calls out to me at the court and the late evening practices he stays out for that I don’t feel so alone. Honestly, the feeling was terribly foreign to me. The certainty of having a companion in the morning, the confidence he would be at your beck and call and silent agreement to remain after all have gone are things I’ve never known. I can’t say I hate it. No. I don’t hate it at all.

“Here!” Hinata manages to pant in between as he and I grip at the handles of the gym door once again from being neck-in-neck in our morning race. He reaches inside his bag to hand a white cloth that had been thoroughly washed and dried. “Thank you for yesterday!” He chimes, beaming a wide toothy smile. I raise a brow, always skeptical at his bubbliness, and reach for the soft towel in his hands.

I take a moment to look at it, wondering if it really was thoroughly washed over the span of the night. I look up to him suspiciously. He freezes in place.

“What? You don’t think I washed it well?”

With a straight face, I nod unapologetically. His face was painted with distraught. In any case, I appease him by folding the towel into my sports bag, letting him know I accepted it anyway. He pouts, still offended that I’d think poorly of his manners. _‘Of course, I would idiot. You used it all day, after all.’_

Morning practice continued as always. With Hinata and I being the only ones in the gym rotating serves and receives. Mornings are really the best time to practice. The morning draft brought in a coolness to the gym, allowing us to be unbothered by the hot warm sweat of our skins. We could jump higher, run faster and spiker stronger without feeling the heat and the fatigue of our body thanks to the cold draft. Even I didn’t notice how much I had sweat until I spot the pools of sweat staining the floor boards. Briefly, I arch my brows realizing that it was time to go.

“Oi, you’re done already?”

“Look at the time idiot. We need to prepare for class.” I point at the clock hanging securely on the wall as I made my way to my gym bag. I sift through my things and grabbed the towel Hinata had just handed this morning. I stare at it with a scowl, feeling the soft, plush cloth against my fingertips. There was only one way to know if it was thoroughly cleaned. I take a gulp and plunge my face unto the towel that manages to soften the blow with its soft, plump fibers. I take a deep breath through the cloth and my eyes squint.

_‘I knew it.’_

In spite of being mixed with detergent and fabric conditioner, the towel still smelled very much like the dewy grass, the cold mountain air and the blossoms of the earth. Like the morning. Like Hinata. I close my eyes and take another deep breath. Digging my nose deeper, I snuggle my face into the clumps of soft, plump fibers.

“Uh. Are you okay Kageyama?”

My eyes blink open to the sight of a curious Hinata, tilting his head to the side with a confused expression. I shove my face back into the towel, hoping to hide the pink blush growing on my face. With a veiled expression, I manage to yell, “Of course you idiot! I’m just taking my time wiping all the sweat. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Ah! No of course not!” He chirps defensively as he surrenders his hands against his chest.

Ever since then, that was the towel I’d bring everyday. Hinata’s scent had stopped being something I would only get a whiff of in the morning. I would catch wind of it during club time. I would find in it in our late evening practices. However, most of all, after a warm bath at home, I’d indulge in it right before I slept. Much like its owner, it gave me a certainty that it would be with me day in and day out.

After all, isn’t this it? Isn’t this what school, media and life has been talking about all this time? Isn’t this what true love is? Wasn’t affection, effort and companionship from a lover true love?

That was what I thought until that fateful day we broke up. It’s hard to reconcile a break up. It’s even harder when you know you did nothing wrong at all. For me, the hardest break-ups would be the kind wherein both parties had not done anything wrong. It’s an awfully mature situation, too mature to grasp, that things could fall apart no matter how much you tried.

I couldn’t be his true love.

* * *

Much like everything else on the floor, I pick up the towel and gather it back to the cardboard box. This time I made sure to tape the bottom flaps down its edges. Having successfully stored the box with neither accident nor back pain, I proceeded to slowly pad back to the living room, specifically at the side of the coffee table.

I carefully ease myself down to kneel, making sure there was little impact on the joints. Once in a comfortable position, I take out my frail and trembling hands to approach the clear plastic of colored papers. I lift the flap. Zip. The adhesive makes a crisp, sharp noise that soothes my ears. Having fully opened the packaging, I take out only a few pieces of colored paper, along with the sharpie, and place the plastic package down on the floor. I wiggle a little in my seat to put myself in the most prime position to write. I shake my hands in the air and flap my elbows making sure that neither joint pain nor spasm would get in the way of a beautifully written tanzaku. After all, you never know when the tanabata god could be reading it.

In Sendai, Tanabata is celebrated on August 6, following the traditional calendar. It’s a celebration to commemorate the reunion of the two star-crossed lovers- Princess Orihime and Hikoboshi. The story goes that Princess Orihime was a talented weaver who lived on one side of the Milky Way River. She would work terribly hard by the river to make beautiful clothes. However, with all her work, Orihime despaired about her inability to find love so her father, the god of the heavens, arranged that she meet Hikoboshi. Hikoboshi was a simple cow herder. He lived on the other side of the Milky Way River. Surprisingly, they fell in love at first sight.

They’re love was so passionate and deep that they started to pay no attention to their own work. Princess Orihime had stopped weaving and Hikoboshi had left the cattle to run loose amongst the stars. This made the god of the heavens angry to the point that he had the Milky Way River separate the lovers completely.

It was only until Princess Orihime begged and pleaded that her father yielded to letting them meet once a year. That was Tanabata. It was the day that Orihime and Hikoboshi could cross the Milky Way River and meet once again.

With one hand, I grabbed the rounded edges of the sharpie marker and, with the other hand, pulled at its cap. The sound made a nice, audible pop. The rounded felt tip still looked moist with ink reassuring me that it would write just as fine as it did before. As the round tip of the marker met paper, I couldn’t help thinking _‘Would the Tanabata gods pay heed to the wishes of an old man who so easily let go of his love?’_

And I wrote.

After having hung my sheets of wishes, I decidedly got up and ambled my way to my bedroom. It was time to change and head out. Dressed in an old brown cardigan and a white button-down undershirt, I left the house with a smile on my face, excited about the sights I would see today.

Being old most often entails you are recommended to stay put at the house. Your hands and legs don’t work the same way as they did before after all. I’d open and close the palms of my hands, checking to see if the joints still feel hard and rigid. _‘What did I expect?’_ Under my dry and loose skin, bones felt hard, but brittle, like a single punch could snap my arm off. I heave a heavy sigh as I pad slowly out of the elevator shaft and into the quaint and pristine lobby of the condominium estate. _‘Maybe it was time I retired to a bungalow.’_

In spite of the wonderfully efficient mechanisms and machinery of the modern property, walking to and fro to the elevators and down the steps of the lobby podium seemed too much for an old man. You could say I still felt very much attached to the property. It was one of the first few homes I bought with my own money. It held deep embedded memories of my time as a professional and national athlete. It held the stink of my sweats and the scent of terribly made home cooked food. It stifled the roars and laughter of my fellow players and me as we reviewed matches on the television or simply shared a warm hot pot. It was home.

My continuous journey through memory lane had come to an end once I approached Sendai’s shopping district. What was special about Tanabata in Sendai was that it rarely passed quietly and subtly.

In the blink of an eye, the terrain of concrete pavements, silver steel and blue glass morphed into an array of colors. Huge lantern-like figures with streaming strands of colored paper hung upon lamp post after lamp post. Even shop windows and doors were adorned with bright colorful array of these streamer-like balls that were smaller in size compared to the ones along the street lights. Blue, yellow, pink, green, purple. Simply name the color and you’d find it somewhere around here. The balls were also adorned with paper flowers arranged in varying patterns, encapsulating the ball into a plumose envelope. It gave the impression that it was a soft ball that would be fun to play and bounce around with.

_‘Like a volleyball.’_

I shake my head side-to-side remembering that I was not on court anymore. It was only then, I realized that I was not alone in witnessing the transformation of the usually mundane neighborhood. Alongside me on the sidewalk were children, students, couples, families and other geriatrics who had come to see the parade of colors on the sides and, even, all the way up. The arcade roof of the shopping district was also decorated in these streamer like ornaments, fashioning gold accents and glossy sheen.

If it was my first time, I would be as equally awestruck as many of the children were, taking in the vast playful colors, sizes and arrangements of ornaments across the plain, dull landscape. However, it wasn’t my first time.

Though it was a pretty sight I often indulged in, the shopping district was a mere stop to where I ought to really go. I gently tapped my worn out loafers against the tactile tiles of the shopping district pavement as I kept moving forward. With my old frail frame, I ambled through many kind and courteous people giving way. I even came upon a nice young lady willing to hold my hand as I was terribly struggling to breathe calmly in between steps.

I felt my face flush pink once the young lady left. Heavily embarrassed, I clung to small clumps of fabric on my trousers, determined to not let my pride dissuade me forward. Through the shopping district I would get to where I needed to go faster.

Leaving the bellows of happy laughter and cries, I crossed the street towards a quitter side of town. Of course, people were still abounded the area, but this time they went about it quietly and respectfully. That was because we were approaching the city’s shrine.

The pavement ended at entrance of the shrine. Concrete merged into three different pebbled grounds, producing the calming and soothing scrunch of rocks against the foot. The pebbled path curved into a bend lined with bamboo trees on both sides. The trees towered from above decorated with none other than bright colored tanzaku papers filled with wishes. As I came closer, the trees did not only have tanzaku, but also an assortment of paper cranes and thread-like streamers. Their forms playfully evolve the willowy soft shadows of the bamboo to creative shapes along the pebbled path. That was until the pebbled path ended. I lift my gaze. The pebbled path broke into a single lane tiled stone slate leading to none other than the beautiful shrine structure.

The shrine was a single-storey dark well-cared weathered wood structure topped with a dark grey, tall and steep winged roof. The shrine’s center gable was accented with colors of golds intricately painted into traditional symbols and motifs on its edges, greeting any visitor with a regal face. Below the crown were brightly painted red and blue patterns that ran along the under belly of the roof and interior ceiling. However, like most visitors in the shrine now, what people stared at the most was the three-lined rope of prayer bells hanging just below the ceiling of the center gable. Their thick threads of white and red intertwined to meet at the top of e beautiful and round golden bell.

Feet went from scrunching in the ground to tapping crisply against the grey stone as people lined up to take turns to ring these bells for their annual Tanabata prayers. I was one of them, ambling slowly through the slate and pebbles to wait behind many younger patrons. However, I paid no heed to the thought of the long line. Waiting was no problem.

It was like this year after year. Setting up the Tanabata tree, visiting the city shrine and praying the same old wish that I had written every year. The whole thing was just like a religion to me.

“Kageyama?”

As I turned my white-haired head, I beheld the same soft caramel eyes of Hinata. His form had shrunk a bit and his body looked just as frail as mine. Sunlight had shown the shadows from dips and swells on his skin from aging and wrinkles. However, he still had that blissful and kind smile.

My eyes dart at the owner of the hand he held all this time. Atsumu.

_‘Aren’t the Tanabata gods cruel?’_

* * *

I was riding a cab. It was a bright, sunny day. The skies were a beautiful blue and the clouds were fine and few. Even through the window’s glass, you could conclude that there was no gale or gust that would make the ceremony at all difficult. All was still except for a gentle breeze rustling the fine green leaves of adjacent trees on the roadside.

We neared the coast line riding through the main avenue bordering the shore. Seagulls start appearing into the view of the sky and, for some reason, the sun seemed so much brighter and bigger now. I turn my gaze from the skies to the view below. I watched as the waves crashed and collided into the rocky coves to only dissipate its awesome power into white seafoam scattered on the sand. The white bubbles slowly disappeared as we make our way from the coves and into the main beach where no rocks or craggy shores could be found. It was all just beautiful white and golden sand against the stretch of the big blue sea.

I couldn’t help but leave my mouth agape for a moment as the cab raced through the sandy landscape, allowing me to see the iridescent water through the tinted glass. The water looked so pristine that you could feel its cool touch on your skin from sight alone. It was refreshing.

‘It was a good place.’

I noticed the open sandy backdrop slowly morph into an ensemble of white chairs, lanterns and ribbons arranged around a lane of burlap leading towards an arch of beautiful white roses as we approached. The cab slows down unto a full stop towards a parking lot overseeing the beach. Unsurprisingly, it was full of people dressed lightly chatting and walking towards the venue. I perk up and reach for my pockets for the payment, preparing to disembark anytime soon.

I opened the door, placing one foot unto the pavement, to immediately be greeted by the soft wisps of the ocean breeze. The wind wafted through my white dress shirt, rippling the surface into soft waves of its own. I take another step out, fully exiting the vehicle with a golden wrapped pattern in tow, much like everyone else. I patted down the crumpled creases on my light grey trousers while checking the shine of my shoes one last time. ‘Let me at least look dashing.’

I combed my fingers through my hair, slicking back the tresses in a spontaneous effort to look debonair. I draw in a sharp breath because, the reality was, I was nervous. Anyone would be when they would see the person they loved walk down the aisle.

The atmosphere was light and airy. There was friendly banter, laughter and smiles from left to right among strangers, friends and family. I, on the other hand, was terribly awkward, quiet and anxious. My heart was racing against my ribcage. It beat in such rapid claps that it physically slowed the amble of my steps. Maybe it even slowed how I processed my environment because, as I approached the light wooden staircase leading down, the world just seemed to decelerate before me.

In my head, I wanted to be at the beach already. Quickly. I wanted to see how things would go down. Yet, my body, the physical realm, was so slow to abate what I mentally needed. Closure.

I grip tightly at the gift’s edges as I remember how I pathetically caved in a year ago. In another city and in another wedding, I haphazardly asked him if he could be mine in spite of the fact he was already someone else’s. I scowl. ‘I really am pathetic.’ We were already broken up, but there was a part of me that was always his. No matter how many lovers you go through, there will always be that one person that stays strongly in your mind. For me, that was him.

I always thought situations like these were reserved for fools who didn’t know what they wanted in life. Why else would they willingly put themselves in a pathetic position of watching the person they love be married off to someone else?

I was finally at the beech wood steps. While walking down, my eyes grew and so did my smile. From the high vantage point, I saw many of my friends from high school from Karasuno gathered around at the far left corner of the venue. Many of them were dressed like I was and waving energetically upon seeing me from afar. I quickly scurried to their position, paying heed to admire the fine details of white lanterns and foliage of white flowers along the way.

“Kageyama!” Yamaguchi chimed.

“Hm. I was expecting you to come a little later. Or maybe not to come at all.” Tsukki raised a brow.

“Now, now. Today is a special day. We won’t have any fighting here.” I turn my head to the familiar and gentle voice. It was none other than Suga who was donning an off white dress shirt and light green trousers. Suga patted my head down and sported a smile. “It’s been a while Kageyama. How are you?” There was a moment’s hesitation because the fact of the matter was that I was most probably better than him now. Daichi had just passed away the year before. A year is never enough to grieve. I didn’t expect Suga to show up to such social events anymore or, at least, for a while.

“I’m doing well.” I say timidly.

“That’s good to hear.” Then, briefly, he had a kind look in his eye. There was a languid sadness in it that made me want to ask him if he was okay this time. However, there’s this awkwardness we all fall into, the fear of being the one to open Pandora’s Box by asking that it renders you paralyzed from any action. So like many others, who I bet might have notice that look too, opted to watch. We watched as the sparkle of his eyes fell momentarily to be picked up with a smile for our sakes again.

“Come, sit with me.”

For some reason, there was a camaraderie I felt with Suga. I would be bullheaded to think I could share equally in his pain of losing the one he loved. After all, mine was very much alive and kicking. However, I would be stubborn to claim that, at the very least, I felt relatively similar to him. Despondent.

We greeted everyone in Karasuno before breaking away from the group to leave our wedding gifts and find two empty seats at the middle of the rows of chairs.

“How are you?”

I straightened up at his question as I took my seat by the aisle. “Didn’t you just ask me that question a while ago?”

He nodded. “Yes, but now, we’re alone. After all-” He forthrightly points a finger at me while playfully hiding sly smile. “You are the infamous ex of the groom.” His outspoken statement almost jolted me out of my seat and coaxed me to look left and right whether other groups have heard us talking. There was none. Like Suga said, everyone was busy mingling with each other and exchanging stories that they wouldn’t bid us any attention from the sides.

I scowled furrowing my brow before I turned back to him. “Infamous? I’m not the only ex-lover here Suga.”

His face softened as he giggled quietly into his backrest. “I know, but-“ He crossed his arms and looked thoughtfully into the clear blue sky. “Could you really compare flings to a first love?” He slowly grounded his eyes on me, staring earnestly with his ash grey eyes. Eyes, that I bet, have been wet with tears for a while. “I don’t think I could.”

Off put by his candidness, I turn my head towards my lap, gripping at my trousers into folds. “What do you want me to say?” I narrow at my trembling knuckles. “What can I say?” My heart beating just as fast as before, but, this time, with a dull throbbing pain. “What am I allowed to say when-“

‘I can’t cry. Not here.’

I feel a light touch from under my chin. A finger. It lifts my face up gently to face Suga. “Everything.” He says with a soft and weak voice. My mouth was ajar as I tried to find the words. My eyes met his ash grey eyes and could communicate I couldn’t say what I wanted to say. Maybe because I had no idea what words could capture it. Suga smiled again and gently let my face fall.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to do it now, but, one day, you have to say it to yourself.”

Then, we heard the call to go to our seats as a young man my age started walking towards the platform of arch white roses. The man had a wide back and slim torso that was sculpted even beneath the tailored light grey suit. A white dress blouse and a purple vest hugged him under the suit coat, holding down the restlessness in his gut. Upon reaching the podium, he went up with a skip in his step, turning to reveal an excited smile. Lips were curled up so high and teeth were shining brilliantly white under the sun. The dashing fellow was none other than Atsumu.

His hands were clasped behind his back as he fiddled back and forth on his toes, waiting for everyone to settle down. Eyeing his line of best men, he flashed a sly smile to his brother who was plainly annoyed and disinterested, looking elsewhere for a moment. However, it was Atsumu’s special day so, as quick as he turned away, he humored his brother with a proud smile. There really is a rather telepathic conversation between them. It was a discussion made with eyes, smiles and the slightest wrinkle of skin. To what that discussion was about, I can’t really say, but my best bet would be that it was about happiness because, very soon, Atsumu would be the happiest among us all today.

Or second happiest in comparison to a certain someone.

Then, Canon in D played. The crowds of people turned and stood up from their seat at the beheld the person I loved the most. Clad in a pristine white suit, Hinata was walking down the aisle with a bouquet of white and lavender flowers in hand. A low strum of the cello began slowly and softly until it gained joined by the sharper and crisper tone of the violin. The song classically paced Shoyo’s walk down the aisle until he reached midway wherein the piano played creating even more momentum and excitement in the air.

Shoyo was beautiful. His usually unkempt hair was combed to the sides giving a side swept look of strands tucked behind his tiny flushing pink ears. His skin was lightly tanned, healthy and radiating a certain youthful glow beyond that of the sun’s light. His caramel eyes sparkled with an intense focus forward, to the man before him, the man he would marry. He paid no heed who was on the sides, not even me. It narrowed to the end he would want to meet with a slight twitch of his lips as he did his best to avoid pulling up a goofy grin because this was going to be the happiest day of his life.

Just like that, Shoyo passed me without a word, without a look, without much of a face. He only left a faint scent of lavender that wafted in the wind, leaving me all together anyway.

From the moment, he walked down the aisle, I could only sport a smile. It was a smile put out to show for him, rather than for me. It was smile to say I was happy for him, a smile to encourage him that I was proud and a smile to reassure him that I would be fine even without him. My only consolation was to at least see him recognize that smile and smile back. However, even that was impossible to ask of him on his special day. I would be lying if I didn’t say there was an ounce of bitterness in the pit of my stomach and a dull pain where my heart was. However, to think that today was a sad day is a mistake in itself.

_‘If you’re happy Shoyo, then I’m happy too.’_

It was like rain. A blessing to the ground in its refreshing pure droplets of water and, yet, quite the heavy downpour. Throughout the ceremony, it felt that way. Soft touches and several glimpses of the happiness Shoyo would soon come to reap. Yet, the sadness and the acceptance that I would not be the one reaping that with him.

“You may kiss the groom.”

This was a pivotal moment, one that I didn’t dare to look away from. Maybe when I see him seal a kiss with another, then, maybe, my heart would truly find closure. Shoyo’s small hands were clasped together with Atsumu’s larger ones. Their fingers were woven intricately with each other as much as their eyes were. Shoyo was at Atsumu’s chest level and had to tilt his head up to such a degree to meet his husband’s gaze. He smiled. ‘This might as well be one of the few moments Shoyo would savor being this short.’ Atsumu smiled back relishing how he would lovingly tower upon his husband for the rest of the days of his life. His shadow obscured a gentle smile as he tilted his head a bit to the side, making sure his lips would be in perfect fit with Shoyo’s and playfully signaling him that he wouldn’t go lower. Giggling, Shoyo pushes himself up on his tippy toes to launch himself into the warm and wet kiss they’ve practiced so many times before, but nothing as blissfully as this. It was brief and quick, yet terribly meaningful. I burn the image into my brain before they break away for air.

I turn away, still smiling, and begin to move as many others did to throw a shower of white petals towards the couple as the newlyweds parade down the aisle hand-in-hand flashing smiles. For a brief moment, we caught sight of each other. Shoyo’s caramel eyes melted into my cold dark ones. It was like the look we gave each other many years before. His eyes squinted a bit in reaction to the soft and kind smile on his face. They squinted to the point that those dark honey pools turned into lines and crinkles on his face. Though that would be the only interaction we would have henceforth, there was an understood shared sense of appreciation, a deep cherishing and treasuring of the love that came before. He only left me with the scent of dewy grass, cold mountain air and blossoms.

_‘I’m happy.’_

At the party, everyone has had their full of fun, food and alcohol. Many of the couples and families started departing, bidding their farewells and good wishes to the newlyweds. Others were too late as the couple left the party to finally depart for their honeymoon. I was planning not to bid farewell at all as I sipped on a glass of wine.

I felt a light tap on my shoulder. “Are you planning to leave soon?”

It was none other than Suga.

In an hour, I found myself with the older man in a bar downtown. We took a seat at the high stools directly facing each other this time. “Order anything. It’s on me.” Suga winked as he swiveled forward towards the bartender to catch her attention. I pressed my lips unto each other, thoughtfully thinking of my drink. Whatever I would order would dictate how I wanted the night to go.

“One mojito please.”

Smack. I plant the empty glass unto the bar table, sliding it back to the bartender to refill quickly. I place both my elbows on the countertop this time, feeling the need for support from the sluggish and heavy weight I was feeling on my torso.

“Whoa, hold on there.” Suga grabs unto both of my arms as I nearly slip from the counter’s edge. I scowl and slap his hands away from me.

“I’m fine!” I slur, hiccupping in the end. “Where’s my mojito?” The young lady promptly presented another glass by my arm’s side. I manage to croak out a thank you. With my heavy and trembling finger, I wrap a hand around the glass, throw the thin black straw and proceed to chug the whole thing down. One after another, it was like that the whole night with Suga just quietly watching from the side. That was until my last swig of mojito had finally been the final blow to my head. ‘Shit.’

“Kageyama!” Suga shouted as I firmly landed my head on the cold marble countertop of the bar. “Hey Kageyama, how are you?”

I turned my head on the other side where Suga was, facing him with stern, cold eyes. Admittedly, I was still trying to feign much control and composure at that point until I asked. “What?”

Suga looked concerned with his furrowed brows and he bent down closer to my face to ask me softly, “How are you?”

I sniffled a little before I could answer with a cracked voice. “Okay.” How else should I feel? The person I cherished the most finally got married to the love of his life. Is there anything else that should be said? I should be elated. ‘I should be.’ Slowly, the world started to blur and my eyes felt unbelievably warm. I blinked. The warmth streamed down my face unto the cold countertop coaxing my wide-eyed face. If my words couldn’t betray me, then my body would.

“I-I-” I stutter. Shouldn’t the answer just be happy? However, I feel a dull pain in my chest as I think of answering that. Once in a while we all encounter this situation wherein the correct reply would be good, okay or happy. Yet, deep down, we know that isn’t how it is. We stave off the opportunity to be honest for the momentary peace, calm and sense of strength towards others. That’s because wouldn’t replying in any other way seem selfish and quite a burden unto others.

I was willing to go down tonight with blacking out and a severe hangover the next day. I’d go about my life as usual, doing the daily motions of my routine. However, when Suga asked “How are you?” I couldn’t help but think maybe the circumstances are excusable enough for me to indulge with the troublesome side of me.

Transparent. It’s been years since Hinata and I broke up and maybe it’s time I truly became transparent about it all.

“I’m happy.” I said again my well- worn voice. “But-“ I manage to lift my head up to face Suga properly. “I’m sad as well because from the day I fell in love with Hinata, I thought I’d be the one he would share his life with.” I prop an elbow on the table to help my hand cradle my aching head as I went on. “I feel foolish saying this. After all, we’ve broken up so many years ago. Do I even have the right to feel this way?”

“Of course you do.” Suga chimes in, shifting his concerned look from a while ago to a relieved expression. “Even if you say it was years ago and even if it is one-sided, your feelings are very much valid.”

I nod timidly, blushing a bit from the candidness of Suga’s affirmation, and continued. “It’s not like when we broke up, he stopped being someone precious to me. He is and will always be that special someone. Even being at a distance from each other didn’t make me stop hoping, praying and wising for much of his happiness, especially happiness that could be with me. But, of course, it didn’t play out that way.”

I clasp on the empty glass I chugged on, rotating and turning it around, hoping that the creases and cuts of the glass’s design against my skin would be much of a comfort.

“I can definitely say my heart is big for Shoyo. I want to be able to love him wholeheartedly, fully and uncompromisingly. I want to be the one to hold his hand, pick him up when he falls and kiss him when he goes to sleep. There’s a wistfulness in wanting to be the person who can make that special someone happy. However, I couldn’t.”

I lean deep into the backrest of my stool as I gazed upwards towards the black and white patterned tiles of the ceiling. The play of neon lights against their glossy surface hypnotizes me until a face comes to mind. Atsumu.

“There’s someone else who could love him more and-“ I paused swallowing my pride as I acknowledged that if not in volleyball, then he might as well beaten me in love. “Better.”

I release a deep exhale as I drop my head back to eye-level. Turning to Suga with a slightly calmer tear-stained face, I try to draw out a bittersweet smile.

“Are you sure that’s all you want to say?” Suga tilts his head with concerned creases on his brows.

I turn to the bar, cradling my head in both hands this time. “Do you think I’ll ever fall in love again?” There was a part of me that already knew what Suga would say. He would reassure me that someone would come along. He’d tell me that in the billions of people on this earth, I’d find another who I could love more than I had ever loved Hinata.

That may as well be statistically true. From the media, stories and testimonies, you would also think that you’d at least find another person good enough to settle down with. You’d at least find another soul you’d be willing to love. You’d at least find that one last love.

“Of course.” Suga answers just as I expected. However, behind the silence that lapses between us, there is a hard to swallow pill that every human comes to find, but never dares to utter out of fear and resignation.

That was the reality that it would be just as possible to not be able to find anyone a lover to partake in true love. It was the resignation that love was not an inheritance for everyone to acquire at some point in their lives. No. It was the horrible and sobering possibility that true love was, more often not, a game of chance that rendered losers the ending of dying miserly alone.

_‘Would I really find true love? Or was Hinata my last shot at that?’_

That’s why as much as I want to be happy for Hinata, I couldn’t completely shake off the feeling that his marriage may as well had spelled out the ending of my journey towards love.

* * *

There I was seated by Hinata against the stone bench of the shrine as we waited for Atsumu to arrive, hopefully with water bottles in hand. It had been years since I saw or had a moment like this with Hinata. Since their marriage, I had only seen him in professional events, social gatherings and interviews, but never alone. Never alone and old. I had imagined meeting like this differently. I had imagined it happened 50 years ago, preferably when I looked sharper and younger. Nonetheless, it was still a meeting, a moment.

“How are you Kageyama?” Hinata asks kindly, breaking the ice over lost contact through the years. I gulp. It’s always that one question. No matter how old you are, you’re not entirely sure how to answer it. Much like when Suga pecked him with questions, the crux of the problem was how much you would be willing to reveal to the interviewer. The Hinata in front of me was the same Hinata as before. _‘He even smells-‘_

I take a deep breath. _‘Like all my mornings, noons and nights.’_

It wouldn’t matter what I revealed to him, what I had went through and what I had felt before. After all, at the crisp age of 90, what else could you hope to hide now? Leaving my mouth agape, I take a moment to process my words, as the old Hinata hovers over the lapse in time. His face was just as round and cheerful as before. He squints his eyes before me in momentary reaction to the tight curled smile of his lips as he waited for me to respond. How else would I feel in front of someone I had already determined my love? Even if unrequited, the chanced meeting with your former love brightened my day. Feelings from years ago at Karasuno flood in like a tsunami, crashing the cherished moments like ecstasy in my blood.

It was wonderful to once again be reminded that you weren’t alone; that someone would meet you at where you are; that a soul was capable of putting up with antics; and that someone worried and thought of your well-being. In the old synapses of my body, I recall the gentle touches we shared at night, the forceful kiss of lips and breathless whispers in bed. I remember all the heated fights and flights of fury we took against each other. However, what I remember most of all was when I reached out to touch Hinata’s hand one day in an ice cream shop.

He had been rumored to have been dating Atsumu at the time. I was just one of many of his former lover. The first one at least. Nevertheless, I was the one who couldn’t totally let him go. In an effort of desperation, I told him how much I missed him, how much I thought and still wanted to hold him in my hands. In doing so, I thought my earnestness would reach him. I thought maybe my sincerity would open his heart and tell him I had changed from before.

A small stream of tender happiness overflowed in my heart as I was able to speak what I had kept pent up all those year in that ice cream shop, however, that wouldn’t change what Hinata felt all along.

“I love you.” Hinata said before, but he also said, “I found someone I love more.”

It was a bittersweet way of saying he just couldn’t love me the way I wanted him to. In the heat of the moment, I always threw the words around as a flat out rejection, an ending or a dead end. What’s to become of my feelings with a reply like that?

I smile to the old Hinata with my crooked set of teeth, flashing a set of mischievous eyes. “In love.” I repeat clearly. “I am very much in love.”

Over the years, I learned though love had been taught in so many ways as that soulmate you’d meet along your life, I had discovered from Hinata’s words that maybe it was the partaking of the grand scheme of love and loving.

This time, with his frail and trembling hands, Hinata was the one who reached out to me, placing his hands on top of my own, squeezing it ever so gently with what strength he could muster. He nods. “Me too.”

He repeats intensely narrowing his gaze at me. “I am in love too.”

Maybe that’s what it had meant all this time.

Later on that day, we were met with the sour-faced Atsumu, gripping on his waist with one hand and holding three bottles of water on the other. His eyes darted at the clasping hands Hinata and I shared. He huffed.

“How many times do I have to discover you two holding hands before you two have had enough of it?” He decidedly nudges me over to squeeze his bum between Hinata and I, crossing his arms and providing a defiant gaze. “You’re 90 years old, get over yourselves! Especially you, Tobio, get over my husband!” Atsumu muttered all the while Hinata and I shared a fond laughter that would never expire.

_‘Sorry Atsumu, I would never get over Hinata. Maybe not even in this lifetime.’_

**EPILOGUE**

It had been a year already and I had finally bought a one-storey bungalow at the same town I had grown up in. It was five blocks away from Karasuno. Five blocks is still quite far for an old man, but close enough to take a whiff of the nostalgia in the air.

Clad in a simple blue button-down shirt and tan straight pants, I amble carefully towards the kitchen, clasping my hands behind my back. Upon reaching the counter, I flip the sink faucet open and let my wrinkly hands get a tad wrinklier under the foam of soap and water. Rolling my sleeves up, I prepare to make breakfast.

_‘Tamago kake gohan.’_

I press the button on the rice cooker and proceed to head to the refrigerator for fresh eggs. The nice cool air of the fridge jolts me weak frame a little until I spot two perfectly white eggs at the top shelf. Cold to the touch and very delicate, I cradle them softly between the crevices of my calloused and sun spotted hands. I close the fridge and bend down a little at the cupboard to grab a bowl.

Ping. The rice cooker calls me forward to inspect it well steamed contents. I grab another bowl from the cupboard where I place a scoop of steaming white rice. The smell of perfectly cooked grain waft the whole kitchen and creep into other parts of the home.

“Is that my breakfast?” I hear from the other side of the home. I smile, getting excited to make his favorite meal. The excitement has to be kept dull as my aging body could do so little with my youthful heart racing at the thought of being able to serve him food. Once the rice was well-mounted in the bowl, I proceeded to crack the eggs and mix the soy sauce. Placing it in a nice plastic tray along with a glass of water and necessary medications, I begin my graceful procession towards the bedroom where he lied.

Creak.

The door announces my arrival signaling the equally old geriatric to perk up from his bed. He tries his best to feign decency by combing his ruffled light orange hair back and patting down the crumpled line of his pajamas. I snort at the gesture.

“Oi, what are you fixing up for when all you’re going to do is get messy eating anyway?”

He lets out a hoarse and shallow cackle from the pit of his ancient throat. He wipes a tear from the edge of his wrinkled eye. “I forget how we really are Kageyama.” Hinata smiles softly, lifting the loose skin on his face just a little bit.

I turn away and focus on setting up the breakfast table on his bed. I pull out the wooden furniture and stretch out its legs against Hinata’s mattress. After securing the piece well, I lay down the hot steaming meal that elicits a sparkle in the old man’s eye. It may have been years but Hinata’s eyes remained a sharp warm caramel, like all his youth had been encapsulated his pupils. They narrowed on the wafting meal laid down by my arms. “Thank you Kageyama! Oh, aren’t you going to have breakfast with me?” The geriatric arches a brow wondering where my own meal sat.

I huff humoring him. “I’ll get my food once I sort out all the things for Tanabata.”

“What? Do that later.” Hinata waves of with gaunt fingers.

“No.” I say gently. “Tanabata is an important celebration.” Just like that, I relieve myself from the room and head to the living room where I grab pieces of colored tanzaku and a marker. In reality, I had been lying to Hinata when I said I had to sort all the things for Tanabata. Actually, I was sorting all the things for his Tanabata.

The past year had been a tough one for Hinata. Due to old age, his husband Atsumu had expired one evening on the couch with him. It was a bittersweet way to go. Hinata would narrate that they had opted to spend the evening before their television, like they always do on a Friday night. Atsumu would already be settled on the plump polyester and let his arm hand at backrest of his couch, coaxing Hinata to follow suit. Since retirement, Atsumu had been adamant about following the news on the new talents in professional volleyball so he’d flick the television open and click towards the sports channel. Hinata said he didn’t mind. He had devoted half of his life to volleyball, what’s wrong with giving the other half too. As long as he was with Atsumu, he found peace in whatever they did, even if that was still watching volleyball.

Hinata had leaned unto Atsumu’s shoulder, letting the rise and fall of his beloved’s chest comfort him to sleep, while holding unto his calloused hands. Hinata would tell me how Atsumu’s hands had lost its steady hold a long time ago. They would often sporadically tremble or experience unwarranted spasms. Nonetheless, Atsumu always did his best to do one thing well with his hands. That was to hold Hinata’s steadily, unwaveringly and as affectionately as he could. In spite of their loose skin, Atsumu never veered away from rubbing his thumb against the back of Hinata’s hands or letting his fingers play with the new lines and folds that grew with age. Atsumu would look at a distance at the television, seemingly distracted by other things in the world, yet, his hands would say a whole different thing with how they grazed patiently at every inch of Hinata’s skin.

Then, when Atsumu would feel that Hinata was going to veer to sleep, he would make sure to croon his chin just above the top of Hinata’s withered tresses, locking in his beloved’s head so he wouldn’t dare slip. He’d try to dig in to his hair, taking in his scent even though he had been with it all these years, and leaving a loving peck somewhere on his skull, not knowing Hinata had been awake all along and playing coy for sweet gestures like this. For Hinata, those nights were simple, but special. Unfortunately, it was also short-lived.

On 12 midnight of Setsubun, Miya Atsumu stopped breathing and Hinata’s heart had been broken since. I remember the day I went to Atsumu’s funeral. Hinata was frail, as expected of our age. However, he lacked the skip in his step or the sparkle in his eyes when he greeted everyone. His shoulders were hunched over and his hands almost always clasped in front of him. Nevertheless, he tried to make good conversation amongst the visitors who had come to deliver their condolences. I continued watching from afar as his smile waxed and waned according to the visitors, time and day.

“Aren’t you going to give your condolences to him?”

As I look up, I was met with none other than Tsukki’s brow-arched face. Following close behind him was his husband Kuroo. My eyes widened as Tsukki’s lack of much age on his face. Unlike Kuroo, Hinata and I, his skin was still quite taut for a 90-year old and had only few lines and wrinkles around its edges. He manages to also keep well with his posture as he towered me with crossed arms. He heaves a sigh, relieving his expectations of me to the side just like his arms.

“I don’t want to be the one to say it, but-“

Tsukki’s eyes slightly narrowed into the distance as he mentally constructed his words. With thinly pressed lips, he begins again. “This was to be expected of our age.” He states like a fact while looking down to me. “You’re very well aware that we’re not young anymore and soon, many more of us will come to expire. You know that. We all know that.” He gestures his head to Kuroo who lovingly cups Tsukki’s waist like a soothing hand over his husband’s woes. “However, -“ he cuts his gaze from Kageyama towards the frail form of Hinata in the thralls of other visitors.

“There is no soul more willing to pass away sooner, than the soul of one left alone and, unexpectedly, by their lover.”

It had all made sense and awaken a new fear in me that I didn’t know would be thrusted upon me anymore. That was the fear that Hinata wouldn’t mind not living anymore. That’s why the moment I approached him, I made sure he knew that much like he was at my side in my younger years, I would be at his side this time too.

Hinata would never consider me as a lover. Not even now because deep in his heart, that was a special place for Atsumu. That was fine. I didn’t mind it at all. Years with experience and contemplation has made me feel numb to the need of having a lover. Of course, there was much regret in my life.

_‘If only I wasn’t so absorbed in volleyball, then I could have found a lover of my own.’_

_‘If only I had a chirpier personality, maybe someone would have chosen me a long time ago.’_

_‘If only I wasn’t me.’_

However, over time, you come to peel away from the indulgences and entitlements such as boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife. I’ve come to realize if I can’t be Hinata’s lover, his true and last love, I would be simply satisfied with being his friend, team mate and partner for the remaining days he had. I would make sure he would have many more days to go.

Once again, I push myself up to place the colored tanzaku and marker on a plastic tray along with my meal. With much practiced precision and strength, I carry the tray carefully towards Hinata’s bedroom, passing by the Tanabata tree on the side. My movements sway my single hung wish, a wish I’ve always written since the day Hinata and I had broken up.

It was a selfish wish really and maybe contradictory towards my efforts to preserve Hinata’s life for as long as possible and with much happiness. Nonetheless, it was a wish and wishes were the few times you could be selfish. I can’t help smirking, thinking maybe Atsumu had seen the wish already and would love to wring my neck now. Regardless, all is fair in the cycle of the universe and I’d let the Tanabata gods decide regarding that.

I enter Hinata’s room. I watch him beam gleefully as I rejoin him with food and a set of tanzaku in tow. I indulge him with the brightly colored paper and take a seat by the armchair beside his bed. I set the standalone table before me, carefully placing the food on top.

“Oh you’re not going to write on your tanzaku?” He coos.

I smile. “I already did.” The response elicited a boyish scowl on his aged face. “Kageyama, we should do these things together!” I wave his complaints to the wind as I started feasting on my own breakfast savoring another shared morning with him. I watch him closely as he writes his wishes.

If I couldn’t be his lover, then that’s fine. Title, labels and roles have no bearing with the intensity and earnestness of my love. Maybe it is quite humbling to find yourself not in the position of the receiving end of direct romantic love. However, from the moment I took a whiff of the morning on that towel; from the moment I kissed you back in that green groove; from the moment we broke up; and the moment I watched you walk down the aisle toward your last love, I knew love would never be a mutual transaction.

Maybe I would be one of the fabled and sobering testimonies of never having found someone to call a lover, but I was proof that I was not without love because sometimes true love is something you give than receive.

I look out the door of Hinata’s bedroom, watching the north wind slowly creep into the household, swinging my lone blue Tanabata wish like an omen. Like I said, it was a wish and a wish was the very few times you could be selfish.

_‘Let him be mine in the next life.’_

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for indulging in the series and I hope you enjoyed the stories told through these character. Please out for other of my works as I explore other ships and universes.


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